IRON  GAME 


• 


ZTbe  llron  Oarne 

A  TALE   OF   THE   WAR 


BY 
HENRY   F.    KEENAN 

AUTHOR   OF    THE    ALIENS,    TRAJAN,    ETC. 


'  ffieab?  antt  aolemn  t&e  cloirtJg  column 
©toer  tjje  jjreen  ficltus  marrljfnfl  came, 
jftteasureless  spreati  Utte  a  table  Tireati 
JFot  tje  coltJ  flrfm  lifce  of  t|je  fron  same.' 


NEW    YORK 
D.     APPLETON    AND    COMPANY 

1898 


COPYRIGHT,  1891, 
BY  D.  APPLETON  AND  COMPANY. 


TO 

BERNARD  JOHN  McGRANN 
WHOSE   LIFE   AND   CONDUCT   EMBODY   AND   ILLUSTRATE 

THE   MANLINESS,    MODESTY,   AND   WORTH 
THAT   FANCY  DELIGHTS   TO   EMBALM   IN   FICTION 

THIS  BOOK  IS  INSCRIBED 

BY  ONE   AMONG   THE   MANY   WITNESSES   OF   HIS   NOBLE   CAREER 
HENRY   F.    KEENAN 

NEW  YORK,  Kth  March,  1891. 


2O6193G 


CONTENTS. 


BOOK  I. 
THE  CARIBEES. 

CHAPTER  PAGE 

I. — THE  BOY  IN  BLUE  .        ......        ,        .        .        5 

II. — FLAG  AND  FAITH ,        .11 

III.— MALBROOK  S'EN  VA-T-EN  GUERRE      .         .        .        ,        .19 
IV. — GUELPH  AND  GHIBELLINE         .         .         .        .        ,"       .       80 

V. — A  NAPOLEONIC  EPIGRAM .40 

VI.— ON  THE  POTOMAC     .         ,        .         .         .        .    '   .        .47 

VII. — THE  STEP  THAT  COSTS 55 

VIII. — AN  ARMY  WITH  BANNERS 65 

IX. — "  THE  ASSYRIAN   CAME   DOWN   LIKE   THE   WOLF   ox   THE 

FOLD" 72 

X. — BLOOD  AND  IRON      .        .         .         .  .        .        .85 

XL— THE  LEGIONS  OF  VARUS  .  99 


BOOK   II. 
THE  HOSTAGES. 

XII.— THE  AFTERMATH 108 

XIII.— A  COMEDY  OF  TERRORS 124 

XIV.— UNDER  Two  FLAGS 136 

XV. — ROSEDALK 144 

XVI. — A  MASQUE  IN  ARCADY 159 

XVII. — TREASON  AND  STRATAGEMS 177 

X VIII.— A  CAMPAIGN  OF  PLOTS 187 

XIX.— "HE    EITHER   FEARS   HIS    FATE   TOO   MUCH"  .  .  .199 

XX. — A  CATASTROPHE 219 

XXL— THE  STORY  OF  THE  NIGHT       .  .231 


THE   IROX   GAME. 


CHAPTER 

XXII. — A  CARPET-KNIGHT 

XXIII.— ALL'S    FAIR   IN    LOVE    AND    WAR 


BOOK  III. 
THE  DESERTERS. 

XXIV.— BETWEEN  THE  LINES 2*76 

XXV.— PHANTASMAGORIA 287 

XXVI.— IN  THE  UNION  LINES 301 

XXVII. — "THE  ABSENT  ARE  ALWAYS  IN  THE  WRONG"        .         .     817 
XXVIII. — THE  WORLD  WENT  VERY  ILL  THEN        .         .        .        .331 

XXIX.— A  WOMAN'S  REASON 339 

XXX.— A  GAME  OF  CHANCE 350 

XXXI.— Two  BLADES  OF  THE  SAME  STEEL         .        .        .         .364 

XXXIL— THE  LOST  CARIBEES 382 

XXXIII.— FATHER  ABRAHAM'S  JOKE      ...  .395 


BOOK  I. 
THE  CARIBEES. 


CHAPTER  I. 

THE  BOY  IN  BLUE. 

WHEN  expulsion  from  college,  in  his  junior  years,  was 
visited  upon  Jack  Sprague,  he  straightway  became  the  hero 
of  Acredale.  And,  though  the  grave  faculty  had  felt  con- 
strained to  vindicate  college  authority,  it  was  well  known 
that  they  sympathized  with  the  infraction  of  decorum  that 
obliged  them  to  put  this  mark  of  disgrace  upon  one  of  the 
most  promising  of  their  students. 

All  his  young  life  Jack  had  dreamed  of  West  Point  and 
the  years  of  training  that  were  to  fit  him  for  the  glories  of 
war.  He  knew  the  battles  of  the  Revolution  as  other  boys 
knew  the  child-lore  of  the  n  ursery.  He  had  the  campaigns 
of  Marlborough,  the  strategy  of  Turenne,  the  inspirations  of 
the  great  Frederick,  and  the  prodigies  of  Napoleon,  as  readily 
on  the  end  of  his  tongue  as  his  comrades  had  the  struggles 
of  the  Giant  Killer  or  the  tactics  of  Robinson  Crusoe. 
When,  inspired  by  the  promise  of  West  Point,  he  had  mas- 
tered the  repugnant  rubrics  of  the  village  academy,  the 
statesman  of  his  district  conferred  the  promised  nomination 
upon  his  school  rival,  Wesley  Boone,  Jack  passionately  re- 
fused to  pursue  the  arid  paths  of  learning,  and  declared  his 
purpose  of  becoming  a  pirate,  a  scout,  or  some  other  equally 
fascinating  child  of  nature  delightful  to  the  boyish  mind. 

When  Jack  Sprague  entered  Warchester  College,  he  car- 
ried with  him  the  light  baggage  of  learning  picked  up  at 
the  Acredale  Academy.  At  his  entrance  to  the  sequestered 


(5  THE   IRON   GAME. 

quadrangles  of  Dessau  Hall,  Jack's  frame  of  mind  was  very 
much  like  the  passionate  discontent  of  the  younger  son  of  a 
feudal  lord  whose  discrepant  birthright  doomed  him  to  the 
gown  instead  of  the  sword. 

Long  before  the  senior  year  he  had  allured  a  chosen  band 
about  him  who  shared  his  eager  aspiration  for  war,  and  when 
the  other  fellows  dawdled  in  society  or  wrangled  in  debate, 
these  young  Alexanders  set  their  tents  in  the  college  campus 
and  fought  the  campaigns  of  Frederick  or  Napoleon  over 
again.  Jack  did  not  give  much  heed  to  the  menacing  signs 
of  civil  war  that  came  day  by  day  from  the  tempestuous 
spirits  North  and  South.  A  Democrat,  as  his  fathers  had 
been  before  him,  he  saw  no  probability  of  the  pomp  and  cir- 
cumstance of  glorious  war  in  the  noisy  wrangling  of  poli- 
ticians. The  defeat  of  Douglas,  the  Navarre  of  the  young 
Democracy  of  the  North,  amazed  him ;  but  all  thought  of 
Lincoln  asserting  the  national  authority,  and  reviving  the 
splendor  of  Jackson  and  Madison,  was  looked  upon  as  the 
step  between  the  sublime  and  the  ridiculous  that  reasoning 
men  refuse  to  consider. 

When,  however,  the  stupefying  news  came  that  a  national 
garrison  had  been  fired  upon  by  the  South  Carolinians,  in 
Charleston  Harbor,  the  college  boys  took  sides  strongly. 
There  were  many  in  the  classes  from  Maryland  and  Vir- 
ginia. These  were  as  ardent  in  admiration  of  their  Southern 
compatriots  as  the  Northern  boys  were  for  the  insulted  Union. 
Months  passed,  and,  although  the  forces  of  war  were  arraying 
themselves  behind  the  thin  veil  of  compromise  and  negotia- 
tion, the  public  mind  only  languidly  convinced  itself  that 
actual  war  would  come. 

The  college  was  divided  into  hostile  camps.  The  "Se- 
cessionists," led  by  Vincent  Atterbury,  Jack's  old-time  chief 
crony,  went  so  far  as  to  hoist  the  flag  of  the  Montgomery 
(Jen0  Davis's)  government  on  the  campus  pole,  one  morn- 
ing in  April.  A  fierce  fight  followed,  in  which  Jack's 
ardent  partisans  made  painful  havoc  with  the  limbs  of  the 
enemy — Atterbury,  their  leader,  being  carted  from  the  cam- 
pus, under  the  horrified  eyes  of  the  faculty,  dying,  as  it  was 


THE   BOY   IN   BLUE.  f 

thought.  Then  followed  expulsion.  When  the  solemn  words 
were  spoken  in  chapel,  the  culprit  bore  up  with  great  serenity. 
But  when  he  announced  that  he  had  enlisted  in  the  army, 
then  such  an  uproar,  such  an  outburst,  that  the  session  was 
at  an  end.  Even  the  grave  president  looked  sympathetic. 
The  like  of  it  was  never  seen  in  a  sober  college  since  Antony 
with  Cleopatra  invaded  the  Academy  at  Alexandria.  The 
boys  flung  themselves  upon  the  abashed  Jack.  They  hugged 
him,  raised  him  on  their  shoulders,  carried  him  out  on  the 
campus,  and,  forming  a  ring  round  him,  swore,  in  the  classic 
form  dear  to  collegians,  that  they  would  follow  him ;  that 
they  would  be  his  soldiers,  and  fight  for  thepatria  in  danger. 

"  I  have  nothing  to  offer  you,  boys.  I'm  only  sergeant ; 
but  if  you  will  join  now,  I'm  authorized  to  swear  you  in 
provisionally,"  Jack  said,  shrewdly,  seizing  the  flood  at  high 
tide. 

So  soon  as  the  names  could  be  written  the  whole  senior 
class  (forty-three)  were  enrolled.  Jack  refused  the  prayer- 
ful urgings  of  the  juniors,  who  pleaded  tearfully  to  join 
him.  But  the  president  coming  out  confirmed  Jack's  decis- 
ion until  the  juniors  could  get  the  written  consent  of  their 
parents. 

The  recitations  were  sadly  disjointed  that  day,  and  the 
excited  professors  were  glad  when  rest  came.  The  humani- 
ties had  received  disjointed  exposition  during  that  session. 
Jack  had  been  summoned  to  the  president's  sanctuary,  where 
he  had  been  received  with  a  parental  tenderness  that  brought 
the  tears  to  his  big  brown  eyes. 

"Ah,  ha!  soldiers  mustn't  know  tears.  You  must  be 
made  of  sterner  stuff  now,  sergeant,"  the  doctor  cried,  cheeri- 
ly, as  the  culprit  stood  confusedly  before  him.  ''  O  Jack, 
Jack,  why  did  you  put  this  hard  task  upon  me  ?  Why  make 
me  drive  from  Dessau  the  brightest  fellow  in  the  classes  ? 
What  will  your  mother  say  ?  I  would  as  soon  have  lost  my 
own  child  as  be  forced  to  put  this  mark  on  you  ?  But  you 
know  I  am  bound  by  the  laws  of  the  college.  You  know  I 
have  time  and  again  overlooked  your  wild  pranks.  We 
have  already  suffered  a  good  deal  from  the  press  for  wink- 


8  THE  IRON  GAME. 

ing  at  the  sympathy  the  college  has  shown  in  this  political 
quarrel." 

"  Yes,  professor,  I  haven't  a  word  to  say.  You  did  your 
duty.  Now  I  want  you  to  bear  witness  how  I  do  mine.  I 
do  not  complain  that  I  am  condemned  rather  through  the 
form  than  the  fact.  I  was  carried  out  of  my  senses  by  the 
sight  of  that  rebel  flag." 

The  Warch  ester  press,  known  for  many  years  as  the 
most  sprightly  and  enterprising  of  the  country,  was  too 
much  taken  up  with  the  direful  news  from  Baltimore  to 
even  make  a  note  of  Jack  Sprague's  expulsion,  and  the  sol- 
dier boy  was  spared  that  mortification.  Nor  did  he  meet 
the  tearful  lament  and  heart-broken  remonstrance  at  home, 
to  which  he  had  looked  forward  with  lively  dread.  His 
friends  in  the  village  of  Acredale  were  so  astonished  by  his 
blue  regimentals  that  he  reached  the  homestead  door  un- 
questioned. His  mother,  at  the  dining-room  window,  caught 
sight  of  the  uniform,  and  did  not  recognize  her  son  until  she 
was  almost  smothered  in  his  hearty  embrace. 

"  Why,  John  !  What  does  this  mean  ?  What— what 
have  you  on  ?  " 

"  Mother,  I  am  twenty-two  years  old.  A  man  who  won't 
fight  for  his  country  isn't  a  good  son.  He  has  no  right 
to  stay  in  a  country  that  he  isn't  willing  to  fight  for  !  "  and 
with  this  specious  dictum  he  drew  himself  up  and  met  the 
astonished  eyes  of  his  sister  Olympia,  who  had  been  apprised 
of  his  coming.  But  the  maternal  fears  clouded  patriotic 
conceptions  where  her  darling  was  involved,  and  his  mother 
sobbed  : 

u  O  Jack,  Jack  !  what  shall  we  do  ?  How  can  we  live 
without  you  ?  And  oh,  my  son,  you  are  too  young  to  go 
to  the  war.  You  will  break  down.  You  can't  manage  a — 
a  musket,  and  the — the — heavy  load  the  soldiers  carry. 
My  son,  don't  break  your  mother's  heart.  Don't  go — don't, 
Jack,  Jack!  What  shall  I  do?  — O  Polly,  what  shall 
we  do?" 

"  What  shall  we  do  ?  Why,  we'll  just  show  Jack  that 
all  of  war  isn't  in  soldiering  ;  that  the  women  who  stay  at 


THE  BOY  IN  BLUE.  9 

home  help  the  heroes,  though  they  may  not  take  part  in 
the  battle.  As  to  you  and  me,  mamma,  we  shall  be  the 
proudest  women  in  Acredale,  for  our  Jack's  the  first — "  she 
was  going  to  say  "  boy,"  but,  catching  the  coming  protest  in 
the  warrior's  glowing  eye,  substituted  "  man  "  with  timely 
magnanimity — "  the  first  man  that  volunteered  from  Acre- 
dale.  And  how  shamed  you  would  have  been — we  would 
have  been — if  Jack  hadn't  kept  up  the  tradition  of  the 
family  !  He  comes  naturally  by  his  sense  of  duty.  Your 
father's  father  was  the  first  to  join  Gates  at  Saratoga.  My 
father's  father  was  the  right  hand  of  Warren  at  Bunker 
Hill  !  If  ever  blood  ran  like  water  in  our  Jack's  veins,  I 
should  put  on— trousers  and  go  to  the  war  myself.  I'm 
not  sure  that  I  sha'n't  as  it  is,"  and,  affecting  Spartan  forti- 
tude, Olympia  pretended  to  be  deeply  absorbed  in  adjusting 
a  disarranged  furbelow  in  her  attire  to  conceal  the  quaver- 
ing in  her  voice  and  the  dewy  something  in  her  dark  eyes. 
The  mother,  disconcerted  by  this  defection  where  she  had 
counted  on  the  blindest  adhesion,  sank  back  in  the  cane 
rocker,  helpless,  speechless. 

"  Yes,  mother,  Polly  is  right.  How  could  you  ever  lift 
up  your  head  if  it  were  said  that  son  of  John  Sprague's — 
Governor,  Senator,  minister  abroad — was  the  last  to  fly  to 
his  country's  call  ?  Why,  Jackson  would  turn  in  his  grave 
if  a  son  of  John  Sprague  were  not  the  first  to  take  up  arms 
when  the  Union  that  he  loved,  as  he  loved  his  life,  was  in 
peril ! " 

Mrs.  Sprague  listened  with  woe-begone  perplexity  to 
these  sounding  periods,  conscious  only  that  her  darling,  her 
adored  scapegrace,  had  suddenly  turned  serious,  and  was 
using  the  weapons  she  had  so  often  employed  to  justify  his 
conduct.  For  it  was  using  one  of  the  standing  arms  in  the 
maternal  arsenal,  to  remind  the  wild  and  headstrong  lad  that 
his  father  had  been  Jackson's  confidant,  that  he  had  been 
Governor  of  Imperia,  that  he  had  enforced  the  demands  of 
the  United  States  upon  European  statesmen,  that  after  a  life 
spent  in  the  public  service  he  had  died,  reverenced  by  his 
party  and  by  his  neighbors.  Jack,  as  an  infant,  had  been 


10  THE   IRON   GAME. 

fondled  by  Webster,  by  Clay,  and,  one  never-to-be-forgot- 
ten day,  Jackson,  the  Scipio  of  tbe  republic,  had  placed  his 
brawny  hand  upon  the  infant's  head  and  declared  that  he 
would  be  "  worthy  of  Jack  Sprague,  who  was  man  enough 
to  make  two  Kentuckians." 

"  But  you — you  ought  to  be  a  colonel.  Your  father  was 
a  major-general  in  the  Mexican  War  at  twenty-five.  A 
Sprague  can't  be  a  private  soldier ! "  she  cried,  seizing  on  this 
as  the  only  tenable  ground  where  she  could  begin  the  con- 
test against  the  two  children  confederated  against  her. 

"  I  don't  want  to  owe  everything  to  my  father.  This  is  a 
republic,  mamma,  and  a  man  is,  or  ought  to  be,  what  he 
makes  himself.  I  saw  in  a  paper,  the  other  day,  that  the 
Government  has  more  brigadiers  and  colonels  and— and — 
officers  than  it  knows  what  to  do  with.  I  saw  it  stated  that  a 
stone  thrown  from  Willard's  Hotel  in  Washington  hit  a  dozen 
brigadiers.  I  want  to  earn  a  commission  before  I  assume  it. 
I'll  be  an  officer  soon  enough,  no  fear.  I  could  have  had  a 
lieutenant's  commission  if  I  had  gone  in  Blandon's  regi- 
ment. But  I  hate  Blandon!  He  is  one  of  those  canting 
sneaks  father  detested,  and  I  won't  serve  under  such  cattle." 

Mrs.  Sprague,  like  millions  of  mothers  in  those  days,  was 
cruelly  divided  in  mind.  When  the  neighbors  felicitated 
her  on  the  valor  and  patriotism  of  Mr.  Jack  she  was  elated 
and  fitfully  reconciled.  When,  in  the  long  watches  of  the 
night,  she  reflected  on  the  hardships,  temptations,  the  dread- 
ful companions  her  darling  must  be  thrown  with,  country, 
lineage,  everything  faded  into  the  dreadful  reality  that  her 
darling  was  in  peril,  body  and  soul.  He  was  so  like  his 
father— gay,  impressionable,  easily  influenced — he  would  be 
saint  or  sinner,  just  as  his  surroundings  incited  him.  This 
was  the  woe  that  ate  the  mother's  heart ;  this  was  the  sorrow 
that  clouded  millions  of  homes  when  mothers  saw  their 
boys  pranked  out  in  the  trappings  of  war. 

Our  jaunty  Jack  enjoyed  the  worship  that  came  to  him. 
He  was  the  first  boy  in  blue  that  appeared  in  the  sandy 
streets  of  Acredale.  Never  had  the  rascal  been  so  petted,  so 
feted,  so  adored.  He  might  have  been  a  pasha,  had  he  been 


FLAG  AND  FAITH.  11 

a  Turk.  The  promising  down  oil  his  upper  lip — the  object 
of  his  own  secret  solicitude  and  Olympia's  gibes  during  the 
junior  year — was  quite  worn  away  by  the  kissing  he  under- 
went among  the  impulsive  Jeannettes  of  the  village,  who 
had  a  vague  notion  that  soldiers,  like  sailors,  were  indurated 
for  battle  by  adosculation.  Jack  may  have  believed  this 
himself,  for  he  took  no  pains  to  disabuse  the  maidens  as  to 
the  inefficacy  of  the  rite,  and  bore  with  galliard  fortitude  the 
wear  and  tear  of  the  nascent  mustache,  without  which,  to  his 
mind,  a  soldier  would  figure  very  much  as  a  monk  without  a 
shaven  crown  or  a  mandarin  without  a  queue.  And  though 
presently  big  Tom  Tooker,  chief  of  the  rival  faction  in  Acre- 
dale,  gave  his  name  to  the  recruiting  officer  in  Warchester, 
and  a  score  more  of  Jack's  rivals  and  cronies,  he  was  the 
soldier  of  the  village.  For  hadn't  he  given  up  the  glory  of 
graduation  and  the  delights  of  "  commencement %'  to  take  up 
his  musket  for  the  Union  ?  And  then  the  fife  was  heard  in 
the  village  street — delicious  airs  from  Arcady — and  a  great 
flag  was  flung  out  from  the  post-office,  and  Master  Jack  was 
installed  recruiting  sergeant  for  Colonel  Ulrich  Oswald's 
regiment,  that  was  to  be  raised  in  Warchester  County.  For 
Colonel  Oswald,  having  failed  in  a  third  nomination  for 
Congress,  had  gallantly  proffered  his  services  to  the  Gov- 
ernor of  the  State,  and,  in  consideration  of  his  influence  with 
his  German  compatriots,  had  been  granted  a  commission, 
though  with  reluctance,  as  he  had  supported  the  Democratic 
party  and  was  not  yet  trusted  in  the  Republican  councils. 


CHAPTER  II. 

FLAG  AND  FAITH. 

IF  Acredale  had  not  been  for  a  century  the  ancestral  seat 
of  the  Spragues,  and  in  its  widest  sense  typical  of  the  sub- 
urban Northern  town,  there  would  be  merely  an  objective 


12  THE   IRON   GAME. 

and  extrinsic  interest  in  portraying  its  sequestered  life,  its 
monotonous  activities.  But  Acredale  was  not  only  a  very 
complete  reflex  of  Northern  local  sentiment ;  its  war  epoch 
represented  the  normal  conduct  of  every  hamlet  in  the  land 
during  the  conflict  with  the  South.  Now  that  the  war  is 
becoming  a  memory,  even  to  those  who  were  actors  hi  it, 
the  facts  distorted  and  the  incidents  warped  to  serve  partisan 
ends  or  personal  pique,  the  photograph  of  the  time  may  have 
its  value. 

Made  up  of  thriving  farmers  and  semi-retired  city  men, 
Acredale  mingled  the  simple  conditions  of  a  country  village 
and  the  easy  refinement  of  city  life.  The  houses  were  large, 
the  grounds  ornate  and  ample,  the  society  decorously  con- 
vivial. People  could  be  fine — at  least  they  were  thought 
very  fine — without  going  to  the  British  Isles  to  recast  their 
home  manners  or  take  hints  for  the  fashioning  of  their 
grounds  and  mansions.  There  was  what  would  be  called 
to-day  the  English  air  about  the  place  and  some  of  the  peo- 
ple ;  but  it  was  an  inheritance,  not  an  imitation.  Save  in 
the  bustling  business  segment,  abutting  the  four  corners, 
where  the  old  United  States  road  bore  off  westward  to  Bu- 
cephalo  and  the  lakes,  the  few  score  houses  were  set  far  back 
from  the  highway  in  a  wilderness  of  shrubbery,  secluded  by 
hedges  and  shaded  by  an  almost  primeval  growth  of  elms  or 
maples.  The  whole  hamlet  might  be  mistaken  for  a  lordly 
park  or  an  old-fashioned  German  Spa.  Family  marketing 
was  mostly  done  in  Warchester  ;  hence  the  village  shops 
were  like  Arabian  bazaars,  few  but  all-supplying.  The  most 
pi*egnant  evidence  of  the  approach  of  modern  ways  that 
tinged  the  primitive  color  of  the  village  life,  was  the  then 
new  railway  skirting  furtively  through  the  meadows  on  the 
northern  limits,  as  if  decently  ashamed  of  intruding  upon 
such  idyllic  tranquillity.  The  little  Gothic  station,  cunningly 
hidden  behind  a  clustering  grove  of  oaks  at  a  respectful 
distance  from  the  Corners,  like  the  lodge  of  a  great  estate, 
reconciled  those  who  had  at  first  fought  the  iron  mischief- 
maker. 

The  public  edifices  of  the  town — the  Episcopal  church, 


FLAG  AND   FAITH.  13 

the  free  academy,  the  bank,  the  young  ladies'  seminary — 
were  very  unlike  such  institutions  in  the  bustling,  treeless 
towns  of  to-day.  Corinthian  columns  and  Greek  friezes 
adorned  these  architectural  evidences  of  Acredale's  affluence 
and  taste.  The  village  had  grown  up  on  private  grounds 
conceded  to  the  public  year  by  year  as  the  children  and  de- 
pendents of  the  founders  increased.  The  Spragues  were  the 
founders,  and  they  had  never  been  anxious  to  alienate  their 
patrimony.  Acredale  is  not  now  the  sylvan  sanctuary  of 
rural  simplicity  it  was  thirty  years  ago— before  the  war.  The 
febrile  tentacles  of  Warchester  had  not  yet  reached  out  to 
make  its  vernal  recesses  the  court  quarter  for  the  "  new  rich." 
In  Jack  Sprague's  young  warrior  days  the  village  was  three 
miles  from  the  most  suburban  limits  of  the  city.  There  was 
not  even  a  horse-car,  or,  as  fashionable  Warchesterians  have 
it,  a  "  tram,"  to  remind  the  tranquil  villagers  that  life  had 
any  need  more  pressing  than  a  jaunt  to  the  post  twice  a  day. 
Some  "  city  folks  "  did  hold  villas  on  the  outskirts,  but  they 
used  them  only  for  short  seasons  in  the  late  summer,  when 
the  air  at  the  lake  began  to  grow  too  sharp  for  outdoor 
pleasures. 

Society  in  the  place  was  patriarchal  as  an  English  shire 
town.  The  large  Sprague  mansion,  about  which  the  village 
clustered  at  a  respectful  distance,  was  the  "  Castle  "  of  local 
phrase.  Much  of  the  glory  of  early  days  had  departed,  how- 
ever, when  the  Senator — Jack's  papa — died.  The  widow 
found  herself  unable  to  maintain  the  affluent  state  her  lord 
had  loved.  His  legal  practice,  rather  than  the  wide  acres  of 
his  domain,  had  supported  a  hospitality  famous  from  Bu- 
cephalo  to  Washington.  But  with  prudent  management  the 
family  had  abundance,  and,  as  Jack  often  said,  he  was  a  for- 
tune in  himself.  When  the  time  came  he  would  revive  the 
splendors  his  father  loved  to  associate  with  the  home  of  his 
ancestors. 

"  But  where  are  we  to  get  this  splendor  now,  Jack  ? "  Olym- 
pia  inquired,  as  the  youth  was  dilating  to  his  mother  on  the 
wonders  to  come.  "  Private  soldiers  get  just  thirteen  dollars 
a  month ;  and  if  you  continue  smoking— as  I  am  informed 


'U  TUE   IRON   GAME. 

all  men  do  in  the  army— I  expect  to  have  to  stint  my  pin- 
money  expenses  to  eke  out  your  tobacco  bills." 

"Oh,  I'll  bring  home  glory.  Napoleon  said  that  every 
soldier  carried  a  marshal's  bdtOn  in  his  knapsack." 

"  I'm  afraid  you  won't  have  room  for  it  if  you  carry  all 
the  things  that  I  know  of  intended  for  you  in  this  and  other 
families." 

"  Yes ;  but,  Polly,  you  know,  or  perhaps  you  don't  know, 
a  bdton  is  like  a  college  love — no  matter  how  full  your  heart 
is,  you  can  always  find  room  for  another  ! " 

"  John,"  Mistress  Sprague  reproves  mildly ;  "  how  can 
you  ?  I  don't  like  to  hear  my  son  talk  like  that  even  in  jest. 
Don't  get  the  idea  that  it  is  soldierly  to  treat  sacred  things 
with  levity.  Love  is  a  very  sacred  thing;  it  ought  to  be 
part  of  a  man's  religion;  it  was  of  your  father's." 

"  Then  Jack  must  be  a  high  priest,  for  there  are  a  dozen 
girls  here  and  in  the  city  who  believe  themselves  enshrined 
in  that  elastic  heart. " 

''  Olympia,  you  are  a  baleful  influence  on  your  brother. 
If  anything  could  reconcile  me  to  his  going  it  is  the  thought, 
that  he  will  escape  the  extraordinary  speech  and  manners 
you  have  brought  back  from  New  York.  Do  the  Misses 
Pomfret  graduate  all  their  young  ladies  with  such  a  tone 
and  laxity  of  speech  as  you  have  lately  shown?  Strangers 
would  naturally  think  that  you  had  no  training  at  home." 

''  Don't  fear,  mamma;  strangers  are  not  favored  with  my 
lighter  vein ;  I  assume  that  for  you  and  Jack,  to  keep  your 
minds  from  graver  things.  I  preserve  the  senatorial  suavity 
of  speech  and  the  Sprague  austerity  of  manner  '  before  folks,' 
as  Aunt  Merry  would  say.  Which  reminds  me,  Jack,  Kitty 
Moore  declares  that  you  are  responsible  for  Barney's  enlist- 
ing. The  family  look  to  you  to  bring  him  home  safe — a 
colonel  at  least." 

"  Well,  by  George,  I  like  that !  Why,  the  beggar  was 
bent  on  going  long  ago.  He  was  the  first  to  ask  me  to  run 
away  and  enlist.  The  other  day  he  wanted  me  to  have  him 
sworn  in,  and  I  told  him  to  wait  until— until  I  got  a  com- 
mission." Jack  was  going  to  say  until  he  was  older,  but  he 


FLAG  AND  FAITH.  15 

suddenly  recollected  that  Barney  was  his  own  age,  and  that, 
in  view  of  his  mother's  argument,  struck  him  as  unfortunate. 
He  saw  Olympia  smiling  mischievously  and  turned  the  sub- 
ject abruptly.  "  I  suppose  you  know,  Polly,  that  Vincent  is 
going  home  to  join  the  rebels  ? " 

"  Is  he  ? "  She  had  turned  swiftly  to  gather  a  ball  of 
worsted,  and  when  it  was  secured  began  to  rummage  in  her 
work-basket  for  something  that  seemed  from  her  intentness 
to  be  vitally  necessary  to  her  at  the  moment. 

"  Yes,  he  wrote  to  President  Grandison  that  he  should  go 
as  soon  as  his  passports  and  remittances  came.  He's  prom- 
ised a  captain's  commission.  I'm  very,  very  sorry.  Vint 
is  the  noblest  of  fellows.  I  hate  to  think  of  him  in  the  rebel 
army. " 

"  That's  the  reason  you  half  killed  him  the  other  day,  I 
suppose,"  Olympia  said,  sweetly,  still  investigating  the  con- 
tents of  the  basket. 

"  What,  John,  you've  not  been  in  a  broil — fighting  ? "  and 
Mistress  Sprague  could  not,  even  in  imagination,  go  further 
in  such  an  odious  direction,  and  let  her  eyes  finish  the  in- 
terrogatory. 

Jack,  a  good  deal  subdued  by  what  Olympia  had  left  un- 
said, rather  than  what  she  had  said,  blurted  out:  "It  was  a 
campus  shindy  :  Vint  led  the  rebel  side  and  they  got  licked, 
that's  all." 

"  Oh,  was  that  all  ? "  Olympia  had  ended  her  search  in 
the  basket  and  fastened  a  glance  of  satiric  good  humor  upon 
the  culprit,  which  did  not  tend  to  relieve  the  awkwardness 
of  the  moment.  Jack  blushed  under  the  glance  and  began 
to  hum  an  air  from  Figaro,  as  if  the  conversation  had  ebbed 
into  an  impass  from  which  it  could  only  be  rescued  by  a 
lively  air. 

Mrs.  Sprague  looked  at  the  uneasy  warrior,  then  at  her 
daughter,  darting  the  crochet-needles  placidly  through  the 
wool. 

"  Well,"  she  said,  "  never  mind  what's  past ;  we  must  have 
Vincent  out  here  for  a  visit  before  he  goes.  I  must  send 
Mrs.  Atterbury  a  number  of  things.  I  hope  she  won't  think 


16  THE   IRON   GAME. 

"that  we  intend  to  let  the  war  make  any  difference  in  our 
feeling  toward  the  family." 

Jack  was  very  glad  to  set  out  at  once  for  his  quondam 
foe,  and  in  ten  minutes  was  driving  down  the  road  to  War- 
chester.  Vincent's  bruises  were  nearly  healed,  and  he  sa- 
luted Jack  as  a  "  chum  "  rather  than  as  the  agent  of  his  late 
discomfiture. 

"I'm  mighty  glad  you've  come  to-day.  I  didn't  know 
whether  you  meant  to  break  off  or  not.  I  don't  cherish  any 
rancor.  I  don't  see  any  use  in  carrying  the  war  into  friend- 
ships. We  made  the  best  fight  we  could.  We  did  better 
than  your  side.  You  had  the  most  men  and  the- biggest  fel- 
lows. We  showed  good  pluck,  if  we  did  get  licked.  If  you 
hadn't  come  to-day  I  should  have  been  gone  without  seeing 
you,  for  I  began  to  think  that  you  were  as  narrow  as  these 
prating  abolitionists.  My  commission  is  ready  for  me  now 
at  Richmond,  and  I'm  just  aching  to  get  my  regimentals 
on.  I'm  to  be  with  Johnston  in  the  Shenandoah,  you  know, 
and—" 

"  You  mustn't  tell  me  your  army  plans,  Vint.  I'm  a  sol- 
dier," and  Jack  drew  himself  up  writh  martial  pomposity, 
"  and— and — perhaps  I  ought  to  arrest  you  now  as  an  enemy, 
you  know.  I  will  look  in  the  articles  of  war  and  find  out 
my  duty  in  such  cases."  Jack  waved  his  arm  reassuringly, 
as  if  to  bid  the  rebel  take  heart  for  the  moment — he  would 
not  hurry  in  the  matter.  Vincent  eyed  his  comrade  with 
such  a  woe-begone  mingling  of  alarm  and  comic  indignation 
that  Jack  forgot  his  possible  part  as  agent  of  his  counti-y's 
laws,  and  said,  soothingly :  "  Never  mind,  Vint,  I'm  not  real- 
ly a  full  soldier  in  the  technical  sense  until  the  regiment  is 
mustered  in  at  Washington.  After  that,  of  course,  you  know 
very  well  it  would  be  treason  to  give  aid  or  comfort  to  the 
country's  enemies." 

Vincent  didn't  leave  next  day,  nor  for  a  good  many  days. 
He  seemed  to  get  a  good  deal  of  "  aid  and  comfort "  from 
those  who  should  have  been  his  enemies.  Mistress  Sprague 
found  that  he  was  not  in  a  fit  state  to  travel ;  that  he  needed 
nursing  to  prepare  him  for  his  journey,  and  that  no  place 


FLAG   AND   FAITH.  17 

was  so  fit  as  the  great  guest-chamber  in  the  baronial  Sprague 
mansion,  near  his  friend  Jack.  Strange  to  say,  Vincent's 
eagerness  to  get  to  Richmond  and  his  shoulder-straps  were 
forgotten  in  the  agreeable  pastimes  of  the  big  house,  where 
he  spent  hours  enlightening  Olympia  on  the  wonders  the 
Southern  soldiers  were  to  perform  and  the  glory  that  he 
(Vincent)  was  to  win.  He  went  of  a  morning  to  the  post- 
office,  where  Jack  was  installed  recruiting-agent  for  Acre- 
dale  township,  and  made  very  merry  over  the  homespun  stuff 
enrolled  in  defense  of  the  Union. 

"  Our  strapping  cavaliers  will  make  short  work  of  your 
gawky  bumpkins,"  he  remarked  to  Jack  as  the  recruits  loi- 
tered about  the  wide,  shaded  streets,  waiting  to  be  forwarded 
to  the  rendezvous. 

"  Don't  be  too  sure  of  that.  These  young,  boyish-looking 
fellows  are  just  the  sort  of  men  that  met  the  British  at  Bun- 
ker Hill.  They  laughed  too,  when  they  saw  them ;  but  they 
didn't  laugh  after  they  met  them,  nor  will  your  cavaliers," 
Jack  cried,  loftily. 

"  But  there's  not  a  full-grown  man  among  all  these  I've 
seen.  How  do  you  suppose  they  are  to  endure  march  and 
battle  ?  None  of  them  can  ride.  All  our  young  men  ride, 
and  cavalry  is  the  main  thing  in  modern  armies." 

In  the  Sprague  parlors  conversation  of  this  risky  sort  was 
eschewed.  Mistress  Sprague  was  anxious  that  the  son  of  her 
oldest  friend  should  return  to  his  mother  with  only  the  mem- 
ory of  amiable  hospitality  in  his  heart  to  show  that,  although 
war  raged  between  the  people,  families  were  still  friends. 
Vincent's  mother  had  been  one  of  Mistress  Sprague's  brides- 
maids, and  it  was  her  wish  that  the  children  might  grow 
up  in  the  old  kindly  ties.  So  Vincent  was  made  much  of. 
There  were  companies  every  night,  and  drives  and  boating 
in  the  afternoons,  and  such  merry-making  as  it  was  thought 
a  lad  of  his  years  would  enjoy.  He  was  a  very  entertaining 
guest;  that  all  Acredale  had  known  in  the  old  vacations 
when,  with  his  sister,  the  pretty  Rosa,  he  spent  a  summer 
with  the  Spragues. 

But,  now  that  there  was  to  be  a  separation  involving  the 


18  .  THE   IRON   GAME. 

unknown  in  its  vaguest  form,  the  lad  was  treated  with  a  ten- 
derness that  made  the  swift  days  very  sweet  to  the  young 
rebel.  It  was  from  Olympia  that  he  met  the  only  distinct 
formality  in  the  manners  of  his  hosts.  He  had  known  and 
adored  her  in  a  boyish  way  for  years,  and  now,  as  he  contem- 
plated going,  he  thought  that  she  ought  to  exhibit  some- 
thing of  the  old-time  warmth.  In  other  days  she  had  ridden, 
walked,  and  flirted  to  his  heart's  desire.  Now  she  avoided 
him  when  Jack  was  not  at  hand,  and  when  she  talked  it  was 
in  a  flippant  vein  that  drove  him  wild  with  battled  hope. 
The  day  before  he  was  to  bid  the  kind  house  adieu  he  had 
his  wish.  She  was  riding  with  him  over  the  shaded  road- 
way that  curves  in  bewildering  beauty  toward  the  lake. 
She  seemed  in  a  gentler  mood  than  he  had  lately  seen  her. 
They  rode  slowly  side  by  side,  but  Vincent  had  a  dismal 
awkwardness  of  speech  in  whimsical  contrast  to  his  habitual 
fluency. 

"There's  only  one  thing  hateful  to  me  in  this  war,"  he 
said,  caressing  the  arching  neck  of  his  horse,  ''  and  that  is, 
the  better  we  do  our  duty  as  soldiers  the  more  sorrow  we 
must  bring  upon  our  own  friends." 

"• That's  a  rather  solemn  view  to  take  of  what  Jack  re- 
gards as  the  path  of  glory." 

"  OhT  you  know  what  I  mean  :  under  the  flag  there  can 
or  ought  to  be  no  friendships— the  bullet  sent  from  the  mus- 
ket, the  sword  drawn  hi  fight,  must  be  aimed  blindly.  It 
might  be  my  fate,  for  example,  to  meet  Jack,  to — to—" 

"Yes,"  Olympia  laughed  demurely,  ignoring  the  senti- 
mental aspect  of  Vincent's  remark.  "  Yes,  that  might  para- 
lyze the  arm  of  valor ;  but,  then,  you  and  Jack  have  met  be- 
fore, when  duty  demanded  one  thing  and  affection  another: 
I  don't  see  that  the  dilemma  softened  the  blows,  or  that  either 
of  you  are  any  the  worse  for  them." 

Vincent  was  the  real  Southerner  of  his  epoch — impulsive, 
sentimental,  ardent  in  all  that  he  espoused,  without  the 
slightest  notion  of  humor,  though  imaginative  as  a  dream- 
er; love,  war,  and  his  State,  Virginia,  were  passions  that 
he  thought  it  a  duty  to  uphold  at  any  and  all  times.  He 


MALBROOK  S'EN  VA-T-EX  GUERRE.  19 

colored  under  the  girl's  satiric  sally.  If  she  had  been  a  man 
he  would  have  bid  her  to  battle  on  the  spot.  Her  sly  fun 
and  gentle  malice  he  resented  as  insulting,  coarse,  and  un- 
womanly. He  flashed  a  look  of  piteous,  surprised  reproach 
at  her  as  she  flecked  the  flies  from  the  neck  of  her  horse. 
He  rode  along  moodily — too  angry,  too  wretched  to  trust 
himself  to  speak,  for  he  felt  sure  he  must  say  something  bit- 
ter. But,  as  she  gave  no  sign  of  resuming  the  discourse,  he 
was  foi'ced  to  take  up  the  burden  again.  Venturing  nearer 
her  side,  he  said  in  a  conciliating,  argumentative  tone,  as  if 
he  had  not  heard  the  foregoing  speech  : 

"  Do  you  know,  it  seems  to  me,  Olympia,  that  you  of  the 
North  do  not  seem  to  realize  the  seriousness  of  the  war,  the 
determination  of  our  side  to  make  the  South  free  ?  Here 
you  go  about  the  common  business  of  life,  parties,  balls,  dress, 
and  all  the  follies  of  peace,  as  if  war  could  not  affect  you  at 
all.  Your  newspapers  are  full  of  coarse  jokes  at  the  expense 
of  your  own  soldiers,  your  own  President.  There  seems  no 
devotion  to  your  own  cause,  such  as  we  feel  in  the  South. 
I  believe  that  if  put  to  a  vote  more  than  half  the  North 
would  side  with  us  to-day." 


CHAPTER  III. 

MALBROOK  S'EN  VA-T-EN  GUERRE. 

OLYMPIA  had  been  jogging  along,  apparently  oblivious 
to  everything  but  the  blazing  vision  of  sun  and  cloud  above 
the  lake,  purpling  shapes  of  mirage,  reflecting  the  smooth 
surface  of  the  glowing  water.  But  as  the  young  man's  voice 
— fallen  into  a  melodious  murmur — ceased,  she  took  up  the 
theme  with  unexpected  earnestness. 

"  That's  the  error  the  South  has  made  from  the  first.  You 
know  my  father  was  a  public  man.  I  have  been  educated 
more  at  our  dinner-table  and  in  his  talks  with  guests  than  at 


20  THE   IRON   GAME. 

school.  That  is,  the  things  that  have  taken  strongest  hold 
of  my  mind  young  girls  rarely  hear  or  understand.  Now  I 
think  I  can  tell  you  something  that  may  be  of  value  to  you 
in  official  places  where  you  are  going.  The  North  is  not 
only  in  earnest — it  is  religiously  in  earnest.  If  you  know 
Puritan  history  you  know  what  that  means.  For  example  : 
If  Jack  had  hesitated  a  moment  or  made  delay  to  get  rank 
in  the  army,  I  should  have  abhorred  him.  So  would  our 
mother,  though  she  seems  to  be  dismayed  at  his  serving  as  a 
common  soldier.  I  adore  Jack  ;  I  think  him  the  finest,  the 
most  perfect  nature — after  my  father's — that  lives.  But  I 
give  him  up  gladly,  because  to  keep  him  would  be  to  degrade 
him.  We  know  that  he  may  fall ;  that  he  may  come  back 
to  us  a  cripple,  or  worse.  But,  as  you  see,  we  make  no  sign. 
Not  a  line  of  routine  has  been  changed  in  the  house.  Jack 
will  march  away  and  never  see  a  tear  in  my  eye  or  feel  my 
pulse  tremble.  It  is  not  in  our  Northern  blood  to  give  much 
expression  to  sentiment ;  but  we  feel  none  the  less  deeply — 
much  more  deeply,  I  think,  than  you  exuberant  Southerners ; 
you  are  impulsive,  mercurial,  and  fickle." 

"Oh,  don't  say  that;  I  can't  bear  to  hear  you  say  it;  we 
have  deep  feelings,  we  are  constant,  true  as  steel,  chival- 
rous— ' 

"  Yes,  you  are  delightful  people;  but  you  are  always  liv- 
ing in  the  past.  Shall  I  say  it  ?  You  are  womanlike;  you 
can't  reason.  What  you  want  at  the  moment  is  right,  and 
only  that;  with  us  nothing  is  real  until  we  have  tried  and 
proved  it.  If  you  count  on  Northern  apathy  you  will  soon 
see  your  mistake.  When  Beauregard  fired  on  Fort  Sumter 
the  North  was  of  one  mind,  and  will  stay  so  until  all  is  again 
as  it  was." 

"  Pray  don't  let  us  talk  on  this  subject.  I'm  free  to  own 
that  it  does  not  interest  me.  Then,"  he  added  adroitly,  '•  you 
are  readier  in  argument  than  I,  because  you  were  brought 
up  in  it.  But  what  I  want  to  say  is,  that  it  seems  base  for 
me  to  turn  upon  the  goodness  I  have  met  in  this  house,  and 
—and—" 

"But  you  need  not  turn.     In  battle  do  your  duty  like 


MALBROOK   S'EN   VA-T-EN   GUERRE.  21 

a  man.  If  it  should  fall  to  you  to  do  a  kindness  to  the 
wounded,  do  it  in  memory  of  the  friends  you  have  here. 
War  is  less  savage  now  than  it  was  when  your  ancestors  and 
mine  tortured  each  other  in  the  name  of  God  and  the  king." 

"  All  murder  is  done  for  love  of  one  sort  or  another:  war 
is  love  of  country ;  revenge  is  love  of  some  one  else— men 
rarely  kill  from  hate,"  Vincent  stammered,  his  heart  beating 
at  the  nearness  of  what  he  was  dying  to  say. 

u  In  that  case  I  hope  I  shall  be  hated.  I  shall  shun  people 
who  love  me,"  and  with  that  she  struck  the  horse  a  lively 
tap  and  soon  was  far  ahead  of  her  tongue-tied  wooer.  Was 
this  a  challenge  ?  Vincent  asked  himself,  as  he  sped  after 
her.  When  he  reached  her  side  the  tender  words  were 
chilled  on  his  lips,  for  Olympia  had  in  her  laughing  eye  the, 
to  him,  odious  expression  he  saw  there  when  she  made  the 
irritating  speech  about  himself  and  Jack  a  few  minutes  be- 
fore. Fearing  a  teasing  retort,  he  bridled  the  tender  outburst 
and  rode  along  pensively,  revolving  pretexts  for  another 
day's  stay  in  Acredale.  But  when  they  reached  home  he 
found  an  imperative  mandate  to  set  out  at  once,  as  his  lin- 
gering in  the  North  was  subjecting  himself  and  kinsmen 
to  doubt  among  the  zealous  partisans  of  the  Davis  party. 
Olympia  was  alone  in  the  library  when  he  ran  down  to  tell 
Jack  that  he  must  start  at  once.  He  took  it  as  an  omen,  and 
said,  confusedly: 

u  It  is  decided ;  I  must  go  in  the  morning." 

As  this  had  been  the  plan  all  along,  she  looked  up  at  him 
in  surprise,  not  knowing,  of  course,  that  he  ha'd  been  think- 
ing of  putting  off  the  fixed  time. 

"  Yes,  everything  has  been  made  ready ;  Jack  will  take 
you  to  Warchester,  and  we  shall  drive  over  to  see  you  en 
route." 

"It  is  fortunate  the  letter  from  my  mother  came  to- 
night." He  stood  quite,  over  her  chair,  his  eyes  glittering 
strangely,  his  manner  excited. 

"  Do  you  know  what  they  think  at  home  ?  They  say  that 
I — I  am  not  true  to  my  cause ;  that  my  heart  is  with  the 
North — that  I  wrant  to  stay  here." 


22  THE   IRON   GAME. 

"  They  won't  think  that  when  they  hear  you,  as  we  have, 
breathing  fury  and  wrath  against  the  Lincolnites,"  Olympia 
briskly  replied,  as  if  to  proffer  her  services  as  witness  to  his 
misguided  loyalty  to  the  South. 

"  Ah.  don't  be  so  ungenerous,  now— at  this  time.  I  never 
talk  like  that  now — here— never  before  you."  He  hesitated, 
and  his  voice  dropped.  "Why  will  you  put  a  fellow  in  a 
ridiculous  light  ?  Your  sneers  almost  make  me  ashamed 
of  my  honest  pride  in  my  State — my  enthusiasm  for  our 
sacred  cause." 

"Deep  feeling  isn't  so  easily  shaken;  true  love  should 
brave  all  things — even  sneers  and  blows." 

"  If  I  should  tell  you  that  I  loved  somebody,  I  am  sure 
you  would  make  me  seem  ridiculous  or  ignorant  of  my  own 
mind." 

"  Then  pray  be  wise  and  don't  tell  me.  It's  bad  enough 
to  be  in  love,  without  being  photographed  in  the  agony." 

He  looked  at  her  in  angry  perplexity.  Could  she  ever  be 
serious  ?  Was  all  the  tenderness  of  the  past  only  heedless 
coquetry  ?  Had  she  danced  with  him,  drove  with  him,  sailed 
with  him,  walked  in  the  moonlight  and  made  much  of  him 
in  mere  wanton  mischief  ?  What  right  had  she  to  be  so 
pretty  and  so — without  heart  or  sensibility?  A  Southern 
girl  with  the  word  love  on  a  young  man's  lips  would  have 
become  a  Circe  of  seductive  wooing  until  the  tale  were  told, 
even  though  she  could  not  give  her  heart  in  return. 

"  I — I  am  going  to-morrow,  you  know,  and — "  Then  he 
almost  laughed  himself,  for  the  droll  inconsequence  of  this 
intelligence,  after  what  had  passed,  touched  even  his  small 
sense  of  humor.  "  O  Olympia,  I  mean  that  I  shall  be  far 
away ;  that  I  shall  not  see  you  after  to-morrow.  Won't  you 
say  something  to  encourage  me — to  give  me  heart  for  the 
future  ? " 

"  Let  me  see,"  and  she  leaned  on  her  elbow  musingly,  as 
if  construing  his  words  literally,  and  quite  unaware  of  the 
tender  intent  of  his  prayer.  "  It  ought  to  be  a  line  to  go  on 
your  sword— there's  where  you  have  the  advantage  of  poor 
Jack,  he  has  only  a  musket.  But,  no,  you  being  a  South- 


MALBROOK  S'EN  VA-T-EN  GUERRE.  23 

erner,  have  a  coat  of  arms,  and  the  line  must  go  on  that. 
I  used  to  know  plenty  of  stirring  phrases  suitable  to  young 
men  setting  out  for  the  wars.  Perhaps  you  know  them,  too ; 
they  are  to  be  found  in  the  copy-books.  '  The  pen  is  mightier 
than  the  sword '  wouldn't  do,  would  it?  Pens  are  only  fit  for 
poets  and  men  of  peace  ?  We  should  have  something  brief 
and  epigrammatic.  '  That  hour  is  regal  when  the  sentinel 
mounts  on  guard.'  There  is  sublimity  in  that,  but  you  won't 
go  on  guard,  being  an  officer. 

'  No  blood-stained  woes  in  mankind's  story 
Should  daunt  the  heart  that's  set  on  glory.' 

That's  too  trivial— the  sort  of  doggerel  for  newspaper  poets' 
corners  rather  than  a  warrior's  shield. 

'  Think  on  the  perils  that  environ 
The  man  that  meddles  with  cold  iron ! ' 

"That's  too  much  like  a  caution,  and  a  soldier's  motto 
should  urge  to  daring.  So  we'll  none  of  that.  What  do 
you  say  to  the  distich  in  honor  of  your  great  ancestor,  Poca- 
hontas's  husband,  John  Smith: 

'  I  never  yet  knew  a  warrior  but  thee, 
From  wine,  tobacco,  debt,  and  vice  so  free.' 

"  Perhaps,  however,  that  might  be  regarded  as  vaunting 
over  your  comrades,  who,  I've  no  doubt,  relax  the  tedium 
of  war  in  temperate  indulgence  of  some  of  these  vices.  '  Put 
up  thy  sword ;  states  may  be  saved  without  it,'  would  sound 
out  of  keeping  for  a  warrior  whose  States  drew  the  sword 
when  the  olive-branch  was  offered  them.  You  see,  I  can 
not  select  any  text  quite  suitable  to  your  case  ? " 

"  O  Olympia,  I  did  not  believe  you  could  be  so  heartless ! 
Be  serious." 

"  Well,  Mr.  Soldier,  if  you  insist,  I  know  nothing  better 
for  a  warrior  to  bear  in  mind  in  war  than  these  simple  lines : 

'  The  bravest  are  the  tenderest, 
The  loving  are  the  daring.' " 


24  THE   IRON   GAME. 

"  You  are  right,  Olympia — those  are  noble  lines.  It  gives 
me  courage;  the  loving  are  the  daring!  I  love  you;  I  dare 
to  tell  you  that  I  love  you !  Ah,  Olympia,  I  love  you  so 
well  that  I  have  been  traitor  to  my  fatherland !  I  have  loi- 
tered here  in  the  hope  that  you  would  give  me  some  sign- 
some  word  to  take  with  me  in  the  dark  path  Fate  has  set  for 
me  to  follow." 

He  came  back  to  her  side  now,  passion  and  seal  in  his 
shining  eyes,  ardent,  elate,  expectant.  But  she  put  the  hand 
behind  her  that  he  reached  out  to  seize  as  he  fell  upon  one 
knee  by  her  chair.  Her  voice  softened  and  a  warm  light 
shone  in  her  eye  when  she  spoke: 

"  I  beg  you  to  get  up ;  we  cold-blooded  people  up  here 
don't  understand  that  old-fashioned  way."  As  he  started 
back  with  something  like  a  groan  she  gave  him  a  quick 
glance  that  electrified  him.  He  seized  her  hand  before  she 
could  snatch  it  away,  and  pressed  it  to  his  lips. 

"  Pray,  be  serious.     You  are  too  young  to  talk  of  love." 

"I  am  twenty -two;  my  father  was  married  at  nineteen." 

"No,  dear' Vincent,  don't  talk  of  this  now.  You  don't 
know  your  own  mind  yet.  I  am  sure  that  when  you  go 
home  and  think  over  the  matter  you  will  see  that  it  would 
be  impossible.  But,  even  if  you  were  sure  of  yourself,  I 
never  could  think  of  it.  You  arc  going  to  take  up  arms 
against  all  I  hold  dear — sacred.  If  I  were  your  affianced, 
with  the  love  for  you  that  you  deserve,  I  would  break  the 
pledge  when  you  joined  in  arms  against  my  family  and 
country." 

"You  have  known  for  years,  Olympia,  that  I  loved  you; 
that  I  was  only  waiting  to  finish  college  to  tell  you  of  my 
love.  Why  didn't  you  tell  me—" 

"  Tell  you  what  ? " 

"  I  say,  Polly,"  Jack  cried,  bursting  in,  radiant  and  eager. 
"I  have  the  last  man  of  the  one  hundred — "  Observing 
Vincent  he  stopped.  It  seemed  to  him  a  sort  of  treason  to 
talk  of  his  regiment  before  the  man  who  was  so  soon  to  be 
in  the  ranks  against  them.  "  Oh,  I  can't  tell  our  secrets  be- 
fore the  enemy,"  he  ended,  jocosely.  The  word  went  to  Vin- 


MALBROOK  S'EN  VA-T-EN  GUERRE.  25 

cent's  heart  like  the  prod  of  sharp  sleel.  He  gave  Olympia 
one  pathetic  glance,  and,  without  a  word,  hastened  from  the 
room.  In  spite  of  a  great  many  adroit  efforts,  Vincent  could 
get  no  further  speech  with  Olympia  alone|that  night.  Early 
in  the  morning  he  was  driven,  with  Mrs.  Sprague  and  Jack 
to  the  station.  Olympia  sent  down  excuses  and  adieus,  al- 
leging some  not  incredible  ailing  of  the  sort  that  is  always 
gallantly  at  the  disposal  of  damsels  not  minded  to  do  things 
people  expect. 

Presently,  when  the  lorn  lover  had  been  gone  three  days, 
a  letter  came  from  Washington  to  Olympia,  and,  though  it 
was  handed  to  her  by  her  mother,  the  maiden  made  no 
proffer  to  confide  its  contents  to  the  naturally  curious  par- 
ent. But  we,  who  can  look  over  the  reader's  shoulder,  need 
not  be  kept  in  the  dark. 

"  Dear  Olympia  "  (the  letter  said),  u  it  was  hard  to  leave 
without  a  last  word.  All  the  way  here  I  have  been  think- 
ing of  our  little  talk — if  that  can  be  called  a  talk  where  one 
side  has  lost  his  senses  and  the  other  is  trifling  or  mystify- 
ing. I  told  you  that  I  loved  you.  I  thrill  even  yet  with 
the  joy  of  that.  You  are  so  wayward  and  capricious,  so 
coy,  that  I  began  to  fear  that  I  never  could  get  your  ear  long 
enough  to  tell  you  what  I  felt  you  must  have  long  known.  You 
didn't  say  that  you  loved  me;  but,  dear  Olympia,  neither  did 
you  say  that  you  did  not.  The  rose  has  fallen  on  the  hem 
of  your  robe.  When  its  fragrance  steals  into  your  senses, 
you  will  stoop  and  put  the  blossom  in  your  bosom.  It  is  tho 
war  that  divides  us,  you  say.  It  will  soon  pass.  And  who 
knows  what  may  happen  to  make  you  glad  that,  since  there 
must  be  strife,  I  am  one  of  the  enemy  rather  than  a  stranger? 
I  feel  that  we  shall  be  brought  together  in  danger,  when  it 
may  be  my  happiness  to  serve  you  or  yours.  But,  even  if  I 
am  not  so  favored,  I  shall  still  ask  your  love.  You  know 
our  Southern  ways.  Whom  I  love  my  mother  loves.  But 
my  mother  and  sister  Rosa  have  loved  you  long  and  dearly. 
They  have  known  you  as  long  as  I  have,  and  when  you  con- 
sent to  come  to  us  you  will  take  no  stranger's  place  in  the 


26  THE   IRON   GAME. 

heart  and  home  of  the  family.  Remember  the  motto  you 
gave  me.  You  are  a  woman,  therefore  tender ;  I  am  daring, 
Heaven  knows,  in  aspiring  to  such  a  reward  as  your  love. 
But  I  dare  to  love  'you ;  if  you  cast  that  love  from  you,  love 
will  lose  its  tenderness,  bravery  its  daring.  One  of  the  high 
mountains  of  hope  whereon  I  sun  my  fainting  soul  is  the 
knowledge  that  you  love  no  one  else.  I  won't  say  that  you 
should  in  love  hold  to  the  rule  '  first  come  first  served,'  but  I 
do  say,  '  first  dare,  first  win.'  And  when  you  reflect  on  what 
you  said  about  the  accident  of  war  separating  us,  just  put 
Jack  in  my  place.  What  would  you  think  of  a  Southern 
girl  -who  should  refuse  him  because  he  fought  on  the  side  of 
his  family  and  his  State  ?  What  is  the  old  line  ?  '  I  could 
not  love  thee,  dear,  so  much,  loved  I  not  honor  more.'  I'm 
sure  I  couldn't  ask  your  love  if  there  were  not  honor  in  my 
own.  The  war  will  be  over  and  forgotten  in  six  months, 
but  you  and  I  are  young;  we  have  long  years  before  us. 
The  right  will  win  in  the  contest,  and,  right  or  wrong,  I  am 
yours,  and  only  yours,  while  there  are  life  in  my  body  and 
hope  in  my  soul.  VINCENT." 

In  a  little  glow  of  what  was  plainly  not  displeasure,  the 
young  woman  "filed"  this  "writ  of  pre-emption,"  as  Jack 
afterward  called  it,  in  careful  hiding,  and  resumed  meditation 
of  the  writer.  It  could  not  now  be  answered,  for  letters  be 
tween  the  lines  were  subject  to  censorship,  and  Olympia  per- 
haps shrank  from  adding  to  her  lover's  misery  by  exposing 
his  rejection  to  the  unfeeling  eyes  of  the  postal  agents. 
There  was  pity  in  the  resolve  as  well  as  prudence.  Had 
Vincent  been  able  to  read  the  workings  of  the  lady's  mind, 
he  would  have  donned  his  rebel  gray  with  more  buoyant  joy 
that  day  in  Richmond.  Another  ally  of  the  absent  came  in 
the  course  of  the  day.  Miss  Boone,  the  daughter  of  the 
opulent  contractor  and  chief  local  magnate,  called  to  plan 
work  for  the  soldiers.  Vincent's  name  being  mentioned, 
Miss  Boone  said,  in  the  apparent  effusion  of  girlish  inti 
macy: 

"I  like  Mr.  Atterbury  very  much.    He  is  a  charming 


MALBROOK  S'EN  VA-T-EN   GUERRE.  27 

fellow.  But,  for  your  family's  sake,  I  am  glad  he  is  away 
from  this  hoiise."  At  Olympia's  surprised  start  she  nodded 
as  if  to  emphasize  this,  continuing :  "  Yes,  and  for  good 
reasons.  You  know  our  house  is  the  high  court  of  aboli- 
tionism ?  Well,  papa's  cronies  have  made  Mr.  Atterbury's 
visit  cause  of  suspicion." 

"  Suspicion?    What  do  you  mean? " 

Miss  Boone  was  paling  and  blushing  painfully.  "  Dear 
Olympia,  I  hate  to  say  it ;  but  you  should  know  it.  You 
will  hear  it  elsewhere.  Cruel  things  like  this  always  come 
out.  You  know  that  feeling  has  been  very  bitter  here  since 
the  dreadful  attack  on  the  Massachusetts  soldiers  in  Balti- 
more ?  Radicals  make  no  distinction  between  Democrats  and 
rebels,  and — I'm  to  say  it— but  Mr.  Atterbury  is  charged 
with  being  a  spy  here — and — and  your  family,  being  Demo- 
crats, are  thought  to  sympathize  with  the  rebels.  Of  course, 
your  friends  know  better.  I  and  many  more  know  that  the 
Atterburys  and  Spragues  have  been  intimate  for  thirty  years. 
But  in  war-time  people  seem  to  lose  their  senses  and  change 
their  opinions  like  lake  breezes ;  prejudices  grow  like  gourds, 
and  the  people  who  do  least  and  talk  loudest  make  public 
sentiment." 

"  What  an  outrageous  state  of  things !  "  Olympia  cried, 
hotly.  "Our  family  sympathize  with  traitors  indeed  ! 
Why,  it  was  my  father  who,  in  the  Senate,  upheld  Jackson 
when  he  stamped  out  South  Carolina  in  its  rebellion.  Oh ! 
it  is  monstrous,  such  a  calumny.  Why,  just  think  of  it! 
The  only  man  in  the  family  is  a  private  soldier,  when  he 
might  have  been  high  in  rank,  with  such  influences  as  we 
could  bring  to  bear.  O  Kate!  it  almost  makes  one  pray 
for  a  defeat  to  punish  such  ingrates ! " 

"  Yes ;  but  for  Heaven's  sake  don't  let  any  one  hear  you 
say  such  a  thing— for  your  brother's  sake !  He  is  already 
the  victim  of  the  feeling  I  have  spoken  about.  He  was  to 
have  had  the  captaincy  of  the  first  one  hundred  men  he 
raised.  But  the  Governor  has  been  made  to  change  the 
usual  rule,  and  the  colonel  is  to  appoint  the  officers." 

"And  Jack  isn't  to  have  a  commission?  " 


28  THE   IRON   GAME. 

"  No,  not  now ;  only  men  of  the  war  party  are  to  be  made 
officers." 

"  Good  heavens !  Nobody  could  be  more  eager  for  the 
war  than  Jack.  It  is  his  passion.  His  delight  in  it  shocks 
my  mother,  who  hates  war.  What  stronger  evidence  of 
sympathy  for  the  cause  could  he  show  than  joining  the 
army  before  finishing  college?" 

"  But  he  is  a  Democrat — and — and — only  Republicans  are 
to  be  trusted — at  first."  Miss  Boone  blushed  as  she  stam- 
mered this,  for  it  was  her  own  father,  in  his  function  as  chair- 
man of  the  war  committee,  who  had  insisted  upon  this  dis- 
crimination. Worse  still — but  this  Kate  did  not  mention- 
it  was  Boone's  own  work  that  kept  Jack  from  his  expected 
epaulets.  There  had  long  been  a  feud  between  Boone  and 
the  late  Senator  Sprague,  and  Olympia  conjectured  most  of 
what  the  daughter  reserved. 

"  Your  brother  has  done  wonders,  everybody  says ;  he 
has  the  finest  fellows  in  the  township,  and  he  ought  to  be 
colonel,  at  least,"  Miss  Boone  said,  rising  to  go. 

"  Oh,  I  have  no  fear  that  he  will  not  win  his  way,"  Olym- 
pia replied,  cheerfully.  "  The  brave  in  battle  are  captains, 
no  matter  what  rank  they  hold." 

The  odious  partisanship  and  ready  calumny  of  her  own 
compatriots  gave  a  strange  bent  to  her  mind  in  dealing 
with  another  problem.  Vincent,  too,  had  suffered  from  the 
wretched  tattle  of  his  family's  enemies.  After  all,  might  he 
not  be  right?  Might  the  war  not  be  a  mere  game  of  havoc 
played  by  the  base  and  unscrupulous?  Country,  right  or 
wrong,  had  been  her  family  watchword  since  her  ancestor 
flew  to  fight  the  British  invaders.  It  was  Jack's  watchword, 
too,  and  his  conduct  in  battle  should  put  these  wretches 
to  shame.  She  thought  more  kindly  of  the  rebel  in  this 
vengeful  mood,  and  straightway  ran  up-stairs,  where,  sitting 
by  the  open  window  and  lulled  by  the  piping  of  the  robins, 
she  took  the  letter  from  its  pretty  covert,  read  it  again  with 
heightened  color,  and,  smiling  rosily  at  the  face  she  saw  in 
the  mirror,  raised  it  to  her  lips  and  sighed  softly. 

When  a  whole  people  have  but  one  thought  in  mind 


MALBROOK   S'EN   VA-T-EN   GUERRE.  29 

that  thought  becomes  mania.  Acredale  had  but  this  one 
thought,  "  Beat  rebellion  and  punish  rebels."  "  On  to  Rich- 
mond !  "  was  the  cry,  and  forming  ranks  to  go  there  the  busi- 
ness that  everybody  took  in  hand.  These  had  been  great 
days  to  Jack.  "  He  began  to  feel  something  of  the  burden 
that  a  feudal  chief  must  have  borne  at  the  summoning  of 
the  clans.  So  soon  as  it  spread  in  the  country-side  that 
"  young  Sprague  had  'listed,"  all  the  "  ageable  "  sons  of  the 
soil  were  fired  with  a  burning  zeal  to  take  up  arms  and  bear 
him  company.  Boys  from  sixteen  to  twenty  these  were  for 
the  most  part,  and  there  was  bitter  grumbling- when  Jack 
firmly  refused  to  take  the  names  of  any  under  twenty. 
Some  he  solaced  with  a  gun,  a  pistol,  or  such  object  as  he 
knew  was  dear  to  the  country  boy's  heart.  They  returned 
to  the  relieved  hearthstone  loud  in  Jack's  praise,  having  his 
promise  to  enlist  them  when  they  were  twenty,  if  the  war 
lasted  so  long;  and  if  the  wise  smiled  at  this,  wasn't  it  well 
known  that  the  great  army  now  gathering  was  to  set  out  at 
latest  by  the  4th  of  July  ?  And  didn't  everybody  know  that 
it  was  going  to  march  direct  to  Richmond  ?  There  were 
trying  scenes  too,  in  the  role  Jack  had  assumed  so  gayly. 
He  began  to  see  that  war  had  ministers  of  pain  and  sorrow 
hardly  less  cruel  than  those  dealing  death  and  wounds. 
Tearful  parents  came  to  him  day  by  day  to  beg  his  help  in 
restoring  sons  who  had  fled  to  the  wars.  Others  came  to 
warn  him  that  if  their  boys  applied  to  him  he  must  refuse 
them,  as  they  were  under  age. 

In  this  list  the  Perley  sisters,  Dick's  three  maiden  aunts, 
came  on  a  respectful  embassy  to  implore  Jack  to  discourage 
their  nephew,  who  had  quite  deserted  school  and  gave  all  his 
time  to  drilling  with  the  "college  squad."  Jack  pledged 
himself  that  he  would  hand  Dick  over  to  the  justice  of  the 
peace,  to  be  detained  at  the  house  of  refuge,  if  he  didn't  give 
up  his  evil  designs.  But,  when  that  young  aspirant  ap- 
peared, so  soon  as  his  aunts  had  gone,  and  reminded  Jack  of 
years  of  intimate  companionship  in  dare-deviltry,  the  elder 
saw  that  his  own  safety  would  be  in  flight,  and  that  night, 
his  company  was  removed  to  Warchester.  There  in  the 


30  THE   IROX   GAME. 

great  camp,  surrounded  by  sentinels,  his  Acredale  cro- 
nies were  shut  out,  and  Jack  began  in  earnest  his  soldier 
life. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

GUELPH  AND  GHIBELLINE. 

THE  shifting  of  Jack's  company  to  the  regimental  camp 
in  Warchester  left  a  broad  gap  in  the  lines  of  the  social  life 
of  Acredale.  Jack's  going  alone,  to  say  nothing  of  the 
others,  would  have  eclipsed  the  gayety  of  many  home  groups 
besides  his  own,  in  which  the  Sprague  primacy  in  a  social 
sense  was  acknowledged.  Since  the  influx  of  the  new-made 
rich,  under  the  stimulus  of  the  war  and  Acredale's  advan- 
tages as  a  resort,  there  were  a  good  many  who  disputed  the 
Sprague  leadership — tacitly  conceded  rather  than  asserted. 
Chief  of  the  dissidents  was  Elisha  Boone,  who,  by  virtue  of 
longer  tenure,  vast  wealth,  and  political  precedence,  divided 
not  unequally  the  homage  paid  the  patrician  family.  Boone 
was  fond  of  speaking  of  himself  as  a  "  self-made  man,"  and 
the  satirical  were  not  slow  to  add  that  he  had  no  other  wor- 
ship than  his  "creator."  This  was  a  gibe  made  rather  for 
the  antithesis  than  its  accuracy,  for  even  Boone's  enemies 
owned  that  he  was  a  good  neighbor,  and,  where  his  preju- 
dices were  not  in  question,  a  man  with  few  distinctly  re- 
pellent traits.  He  delighted  in  showing  his  affluence — not 
always  in  good  taste.  He  filled  his  fine  house  with  bizarre 
crowds,  and  made  no  stint  to  his  friends  who  needed  his 
purse  or  his  influence.  He  had  in  the  early  days  when  he 
came  to  Acredale  aspired  to  political  leadership  in  the  Demo- 
cratic party. 

But  Senator  Sprague  was  too  firmly  enshrined  in  the  loy- 
alty of  the  district  to  be  overcome  by  the  parvenu's  manoeu- 
vres or  his  money.  His  ambition  in  time  turned  to  rancor 
as  he  marked  the  patrician's  disdainful  disregard  of  his 


GUELPH   AND   GHIBELLINE.  31 

(Boone's)  efforts  to  supplant  him.  Hatred  of  the  Spragues 
became  something  like  a  passion  in  Boone.  Sarcasms  and 
disparagement  leveled  at  his  social  and  political  pretensions 
he  attributed  to  the  Senator  and  his  family.  All  sorts  of 
slurs  and  gossip  were  reported  to  him  by  busybodies,  until  it 
became  a  settled  purpose  with  Boone  to  make  the  Sprague 
family  feel  heavy  heart-burnings  for  the  sum  of  the  affronts 
he  had  endured.  It  was  to  them  he  attributed  the  whis- 
pered gibes  about  his  illiteracy;  his  shady  business  meth- 
ods ;  the  awful  story  of  his  handiwork  in  the  ruin  of  Rich- 
ard Perley,  the  spendthrift  brother  of  the  Misses  Perley. 
Once,  too,  when  he  had  so  well  manipulated  the  district 
delegates  that  he  was  sure  of  nomination  in  the  convention, 
Senator  Sprague  had  hurried  home  from  Washington  and 
defeated  him  just  as  the  prize  was  in  his  grasp.  The  Senator 
made  a  speech  to  the  delegates,  in  which  he  pointedly  de- 
clared that  it  was  men  of  honor  and  brains,  not  men  of 
money,  that  should  be  chosen  to  make  the  laws. 

"The  time  will  come,  Senator,  that  you'll  be  sorry  for 
this  hour's  work,"  Boone  said,  joining  Sprague  at  the  door 
as  he  was  leaving  the  hall. 

"  How's  that  ? "  the  other  asked,  with  just  the  shade  of 
superciliousness  in  the  tone  admired  in  the  Senate  for  suav- 
ity. "  I  hope  I  am  always  sorry  when  I  do  wrong,  in  speech 
or  act;  I  teach  my  children  to  be." 

"  Well,  if  you  think  it  right  to  run  the  party  for  a  few 
lordly  idlers  too  proud  to  mix  with  the  people — men  who 
think  they  are  better  born  and  better  bred  than  the  rest  of 
us — I  don't  want  to  have  anything  more  to  do  with  it.  .1 
will  go  elsewhere." 

"  That's  your  privilege,  sir.  The  Whigs  have  plenty  of 
room  for  self-made  men.  Though  I  do  think  you  are  tak- 
ing too  personal  a  view  of  to-day's  contest,  your  defeat  was 
purely  a  matter  of  duty.  Moore,  whom  we  have  chosen, 
was  a  poor  Irish  settler  here  before  you  came.  He  was 
promised  the  nomination  two  years  ago."  With  a  lofty 
bow  the  Senator  turned  and  stalked  in  another  direction  as 
if  he  did  not  care  for  the  other's  further  companv.  Even 
3 


32  THE   IRON   GAME. 

this  small  and  wholly  unintended  affront  worked  in  the 
poor,  misjudging  victim  of  morbid  self-esteem,  as  a  cinder  in 
the  eye  will  torture  and  blind  the  sufferer  to  all  the  land- 
scape. Boone  mingled  no  more  with  the  Democrats.  He 
threw  himself  with  the  fervor  of  the  convert  into  the  radi- 
cal wing  of  the  Whigs,  and  was  brought  into  close  relation 
with  some  of  the  most  admired  of  the  band  of  great  men 
who  created  the  young  Republican  party.  If  Douglas, 
Dickinson,  Cass,  Van  Buren,  Seymour,  or  any  eminent 
Democrat  passing  through  Warchester  stopped  to  break 
bread  with  their  colleague  Sprague  in  his  Acredale  retreat, 
straightway  the  splendid  Sumner,  the  Ciceronian  Phillips, 
or  the  Walpole-Seward,  or  some  other  of  the  shining  galaxy 
of  agitators,  whose  light  so  shone  before  men  that  the  whole 
land  was  presently  brought  out  of  darkness,  met  at  Boone's 
table  to  maintain  the  balance  in  distinction. 

It  was  Boone's  liberal  purse  that  paid  the  expenses  of  the 
memorable  campaign  in  the  Warchester  district,  wherein  the 
Democrats  were  first  shaken  in  their  hold.  It  was  his  money 
that  finally  secured  the  seat  in  Congress  for  Oswald,  who 
was  his  tenant  and  debtor.  It  was  therefore  no  surprise 
when  Oswald — who  had  been  greatly  aided  in  business  af- 
fairs by  Senator  Sprague — passed  over  the  prior  claims  of 
his  old  patron's  son,  and  gave  the  cadetship  to  Wesley 
Boone.  the  son  of  his  new  liege.  It  was  looked  upon  as 
another  step  in  the  ladder  of  gratitude  when  Wesley  carried 
off  the  captaincy  in  the  Acredale  company,  though  every- 
body knew  that  young  Boone  was  not  in  any  way  so  well 
fitted  for  the  "  straps  "  as  Jack.  When  one  day  an  item  ap- 
peared in  the  local  paper  to  the  effect  that  President  Lincoln 
had  shown  the  t;  sagacity  for  which  he  was  so  well  known, 
in  honoring  our  distinguished  townsman,  Elisha  Boone,  Esq., 
with  the  appointment  of  ambassador  to  Russia,"  everybody 
thought  the  statement  only  natural.  There  were  many 
congratulations.  But  when,  having  declined  this  splen- 
did proffer,  the  authorities  pressed  the  place  of  "  Assistant 
Secretary  of  the  Treasury "  upon  their  townsman,  the 
whole  village  awoke  to  the  fact  that  all  its  greatness  had 


GUELPH   AND   GIUBELLINE.  33 

not  gone  when  Senator  Sprague  was  gathered  to  his  fa- 
thers. 

The  event  was  potent  as  the  cross  Constantino  saw,  or 
dreamed  he  saw,  in  the  sky,  in  the  conversion  of  party 
workers  to  the  new  Administration.  Everybody  looked  for- 
ward to  an  eminent  future  for  the  potent  partisan  and  mill- 
ionaire, the  first  of  that — now  not  uncommon — hierarchy 
that  replace  the  feudal  barons  in  modern  social  forces.  Had 
he  listened  to  the  eager  urging  of  Kate,  his  daughter  and 
prime  minister,  Boone  would  have  accepted  the  foreign  mis- 
sion ;  but  he  stubbornly  refused  to  listen  to  her  in  this. 

Kate  Boone  was  like  her  father  only  in  strong  will, 
vehement  purpose,  and  a  certain  humorous  independence 
that  made  her  a  great  delight  among  even  the  anti-Boone 
partisans  in  both  Acredale  and  Warchester.  Since  the  death 
of  her  mother,  Kate  had  been  head  of  her  father's  household 
— an  imperious,  capricious,  kind-hearted  tyrant,  who  ruled 
mostly  by  jokes  and  persuasions  of  the  gentler  sort.  It  was 
her  father's  one  lament  that  Kate  was  not  "  the  boy  of  the 
family,  for  she  had  more  of  the  stuff  that  makes  the  man  in 
her  little  finger  than  Wes  had  in  his  whole  body."  She  kept 
him  in  a  perpetual  unrest  of  delight  and  dismay.  She  es- 
poused none  of  his  piques  or  prejudices;  she  was  as  apt  to 
bring  people  he  disliked  to  his  dinner-table  as  those  he  liked. 
She  was  forever  making  him  forgive  wrongs,  or  what  he 
fancied  to  be  wrongs,  and  causing  him  seem  at  fault  in  all 
his  squabbles,  so  that  he  was  often  heard  to  say,  when  things 
went  as  he  didn't  want  them : 

"  I  don't  know  whether  I  am  to  blame  or  the  other  fellow 
until  Kate  hears  the  story." 

His  illiteracy  and  lack  of  polish  were  the  secret  grief  of 
the  rich  man's  life.  Kate  was  quick  in  detecting  this.  Much 
of  it  she  saw  was  due  to  the  shyness  that  unschooled  men 
feel  in  the  presence  of  college  men,  or  those  who  have  been 
trained.  On  returning  from  her  seminary  life,  the  young 
girl  set  about  remedying  the  single  break  in  her  father's  per- 
fections. She  was  far  too  clever  to  let  him  know  her  ambi- 
tious purpose.  With  a  patience  almost  maternal  and  an 


34  THE   IRON   GAME. 

exquisite  adroitness,  she  interested  him  in  her  own  reading, 
which  was  comprehensive,  if  not  very  well  ordered.  But  she 
won  the  main  point.  During  the  long  winter  evenings  her 
father  found  no  pleasure  like  that  Kate  had  always  ready 
for  him.  in  the  cheery  library.  He  was  soon  amazed  at  his 
keen  interest  in  the  world  of  mind  unrolled  to  his  under- 
standing ;  more  than  all,  he  retained  with  the  receptivity  of 
a  boy  all  that  was  read  to  him.  Kate  made  believe  that  she 
needed  his  help  in  reviewing  her  own  studies,  and  so  carried 
him  through  all  she  had  gone  over  in  the  seminary  classes. 
Boone  began  presently  to  see  that  education  is  not  the  result 
of  mere  attendance  in  schools  and  the  parroting  of  the 
classics  in  a  few  semesters  in  college.  Without  suspecting 
it,  his  varied  business  enterprises  and  his  wide  experience  of 
men  had  grounded  him  as  well  in  the  ordinary  forms  of 
knowledge  as  nine  in  ten  college  men  attain. 

"  Education,  after  all,  papa,  is  like  a  trade.  A  man  may 
be  able  to  handle  all  the  tools  and  not  know  their  names. 
Now,  you  are  a  well-informed  man,  but,  because  you  didn't 
know  logic,  grammar,  scientific  terms,  and  the  like,  you 
thought  yourself  ignorant." 

In  the  new  confidence  in  himself  he  was  surprised  at  his 
own  ability  in  launching  a  subject  in  the  presence  of  his 
eminent  friends  when  especially  Kate  was  on  hand  to  sup- 
port the  conversation.  She  got  him  not  only  to  buy  fine 
pictures,  as  most  rich  men  do,  but  she  made  him  see  wherein 
their  value  lay,  so  that  when  artists  and  amateurs  came  to 
admire  his  treasures,  he  could  talk  to  them  without  gross 
solecisms. 

"  I'm  not  a  liberal  education  to  you,  papa,  as  Steele  said 
of  the  Duchess  of  Devonshire.  That  implies  too  much,  but 
I  am  an  index.  You  can  find  out  what  you  need  to  know 
by  keeping  track  of  my  ignorance." 

Elisha  Boone's  domestic  circle  was  a  termagancy — as 
Kate  often  told  his  guests — tempered  by  wit  and  good- 
humor.  He  was  prouder  of  his  daughter  than  of  his  self- 
made  rank  or  his  revered  million.  In  moments  of  expan- 
sive good-nature  he  invited  business  or  political  associates  to 


GUELPH  AND  GHIBELLINE.  35 

"  Acre  Villa,"  as  his  place  was  called,  to  enjoy  the  surprise 
Kate's  graces  wrought  in  the  "guests.  But  these  were  not 
always  times  of  delight  to  the  doting  parent.  Kate  was  a 
shrewd  judge  of  the  amenities ;  and  if  the  personages  who 
came,  at  the  father's  bidding,  gave  the  least  sign  of  a  not 
unnatural  surprise  to  find  a  girl  so  well  bred  and  self-con- 
tained in  the  daughter  of  such  a  man  as  Boone,  she  became 
very  frigid  and  left  the  father  to  do  the  honors  of  the  even- 
ing visit.  No  entreaty  could  move  her  to  reappear  on  the 
scene.  In  time,  the  prodigal  papa  was  careful  to  submit  a 
list  of  the  names  of  his  proposed  guests,  as  chamberlains 
give  royalty  a  descriptive  list  of  those  to  be  bidden  to 
court. 

Kate  was  on  terms  that,  if  not  cordial,  were  not  con- 
strained, with  the  Spragues.  She  had  gone  to  the  same 
seminary  with  Olympia,  had  danced  with  Jack,  and,  in  the 
cadetship  affair,  had  plainly  given  her  opinion  that  her 
brother  Wesley,  having  no  taste  or  fitness  for  military  life, 
Jack,  who  had,  should  have  the  prize.  But  two  motives  en- 
tered into  the  father's  determination :  one  was  to  annoy  and 
humiliate  the  Spragues ;  the  other,  the  sleepless  craving  of  the 
parvenu  to  get  for  his  son  what  had  not  been  his,  in  spite  of 
all  the  adulation  paid  him — the  conceded  equality  of  social 
condition.  The  army  was  then,  as  I  believe  it  is  considered 
now,  the  surest  sign  of  higher  caste  in  a  democracy.  Wes- 
ley, by  the  mere  right  to  epaulets,  would  be  of  the  acknowl- 
edged gentility.  Nobody  could  sneer  at  him ;  no  doors  could 
be  opened  grudgingly  when  he  called.  He  would,  in  virtue 
of  his  West  Point  insignia,  be  a  knighted  member  of  the 
blood  royal  of  the  republic.  Some  of  this  mysterious  unc- 
tion would  distill  itself  into  the  unconsecrated  ichor  of  the 
rest  of  the  family,  and  Kate,  as  well  as  himself,  would  be 
part  of  the  patrician  caste.  The  daughter  looked  upon  all 
this  good-humoredly ;  she  shared  none  of  her  father's  mor- 
bid delusions  on  the  subject.  She  rallied  the  cadet  a  good 
deal  on  his  mission.  When  Wesley,  after  the  June  exami- 
nations, which  he  passed  by  the  narrowest  squeeze — 'twas 
said  by  outside  influence — came  home  to  display  his  cadet 


36  THE   IRON   GAME. 

buttons  and  his  neat  gray  uniform  in  Acredale,  Kate  ban- 
tered the  complacent  young  warrior  jocosely. 

"We  shall  all  have  to  live  up  to  your  shoulder-straps 
and  brass  buttons  after  this,  Wesley,"  she  cried,  as  the 
proud  young  dandy  strutted  over  the  arabesques  of  the  li- 
brary, where  the  delighted  papa  marched  him,  the  better  to 
survey  the  boy's  splendor.  "And  think  of  the  fate  that 
awaits  you  if,  in  the  esteem  of  Acredale,  you  should  turn  out 
less  than  a  Napoleon." 

"  Be  serious,  Kate,  and  don't  tease  the  boy.  Wesley  knows 
what's  expected  of  him  ;  he  has  an  opportunity  to  show  what 
is  in  his  stock.  Thank  God,  men  in  the  North  can  now 
come  to  their  own  without  going  down  on  their  knees  to  the 
South ! " 

Wesley  grinned.  He  was  no  match  for  his  sister  in  the 
humorous  bouts  waged  over  his  head  against  his  father's 
prejudices  and  cherished  social  schemes.  During  the  vaca- 
tion she  put  a  heavy  penalty  of  raillery  upon  his  swelling 
pride  and  vanity,  sarcasm  that  tried  the  paternal  patience  as 
well  as  his  own.  Wesley,  however,  had  a  large  fund  of  the 
philosophy  that  comes  from  a  high  estimate  of  one's  self. 
He  was  well  favored  in  looks  and  build,  though  somewhat  ef- 
feminate, with  his  small  hands  and  carefully  shod  feet.  He 
would  have  been  called  a  "  dude  "  had  the  word  been  known 
in  its  present  significance ;  as  it  was,  he  was  regarded  as  a  cox- 
comb by  the  derisive  group  hostile  to  the  father's  social  pre- 
tensions. He  was  the  first  of  the  golden  youth  of  his  set  to 
adopt  the  then  reviving  mode  of  parting  the  hair  on  the 
middle  of  the  head.  In  the  teeth  of  the  village  derision,  he 
persisted  in  this  with  a  tenacity  that  Kate  declared  gave 
promise  of  a  "Wellington."  For  many  who  had  at  first 
adopted  the  foreign  freak  had  been  ridiculed  out  of  it,  dis- 
couraged by  the  obstinate  refusal  of  the  generality  to  follow 
the  lead.  In  those  sturdily  primitive  days  the  rich  youth  of 
the  land  had  not  so  universally  gone  abroad  as  they  do  now, 
and  "  the  proper  thing  "  among  the  "  well  born  "  was  not  so 
distinctly  laid  down  in  the  code  of  the  6lite.  The  accent  and 
manners  that  now  mark  "good  form"  seemed  queer,  not  to 


GUELPH   AND   GHIBELLINE.  37 

say  bouffe,  to  even  the  first  circles  of  home  society,  and  the 
first  disciples  of  "  Anglomania"  had  a  very  hard  time  polish- 
ing the  raw  material.  The  home  life  of  the  Boones  was 
something  better  and  sincerer  than  the  impression  made 
upon  their  neighbors  by  the  father's  invincible  push  and 
high-handed  ways.  His  daughter  and  son  had  been  born  to 
him  in  middle  age.  They  had  the  reverence  for  the  parent 
marked  in  the  conduct  of  children  who  associate  gray  hairs 
with  the  venerable.  With  all  her  strong  sense  and  self- 
assertion,  Kate  was  proud  of  the  fact  that  she  was  her  father's 
daughter.  It  was  a  distinction  to  bear  his  name.  His  solid- 
ity, his  masterful  will,  his  well-defined,  if  narrow,  convic- 
tions, were  to  her  the  sanctities  one  is  apt  to  associate  with 
lineage  or  magistracy.  Wesley,  though  less  impressionable 
than  his  sister,  shared  these  secret  devotions  to  the  parent's 
parts,  and  bowed  before  his  father's  behests,  in  the  filial  rev- 
erence of  the  sons  of  the  patriarchs.  When  Elisha  Boone 
denounced  the  outbreak  of  John  Brown  at  Harper's  Ferry 
as  more  criminal  than  Aaron  Burr's  treason,  his  children 
made  his  prepossessions  their  own ;  when,  three  years  later, 
the  father  proudly  eulogized  the  uprising  he  had  so  luridly 
condemned,  his  children  saw  no  tergiversation  in  the  swift 
conversion.  When  to  this  full  measure  of  lay  perfection 
the  complexion  of  Levite  godliness  was  superadded  by  elec- 
tion to  the  deaconate  in  the  Baptist  Church,  it  will  readily 
be  seen  that  two  young  people,  in  whom  the  hard  worldliness 
of  wealth  and  easy  conditions  had  not  bred  home  agnosti- 
cism, were  material  for  all  the  credulities  of  parent  worship. 
Kate,  a  year  older  than  Wesley,  soon  encountered  the  in- 
fluences which  gave  the  first  shock  to  her  faith  and  gradually 
tinctured  her  sentiments  with  a  clearer  insight  into  her 
father's  character.  Oddly  enough,  it  was  through  the  rival 
"house  this  came.  Olympia,  a  sort  of  ablegate  in  the  social 
hierarchy  of  the  village,  had  been  thrown  much  with  Kate, 
and  was  greatly  amused  with  her  point  of  view  in  many  of 
the  snarls  arising  in  a  provincial  society.  The  intimacy  had 
been  begun  in  the  New  York  school,  where  both  had  been 
in  the  same  classes,  and,  though  the  families  saw  nothing  of 


38  THE   IRON   GAME. 

each  other,  the  girls  did.  Kate  was  soon  led  to  see  that  the 
Spragues  had  none  of  the  patrician  pretension  her  father  at- 
tributed to  them.  Jack,  too,  had  made  much  of  her,  and 
seemed  to  delight  in  her  sharp  retorts  to  the  inanities  of  would- 
be  wits.  The  episode  in  Elisha  Boone's  life,  that  all  his  suc- 
cess, wealth,  and  after  exemplary  conduct  had  not  condoned 
in  the  village  mind,  was  his  handiwork  in  the  ruin  of  Richard 
Perley.  I  set  this  down  with  something  of  the  delight  Car- 
lyle  expresses  when  in  the  rubbish  of  history  he  found,  among 
the  shams  called  kings  and  nobles,  anything  like  a  man. 

It  is  worth  the  noting,  this  trait  of  Acredale,  at  a  time  when 
riches  and  success  are  looked  upon  as  condoning  every  breach 
of  the  decalogue.  •  Just  how  the  intimacy  between  the  two 
men  came  about  was  not  known.  It,  however,  was  known 
that  when  Boone  first  came  to  Acredale  he  had  been  helped 
in  his  affairs  by  Dick  Perley's  lavish  means.  In  a  few  years 
Boone  was  the  patron  and  Perley  the  client.  As  Boone  grew 
rich  Perley  grew  poor,  until  finally  all  was  gone.  Then  the 
fairest  lands  of  the  Perley  inheritance  passed  to  Boone.  It 
was  the  fireside  history  of  the  whole  Caribee  Valley  that  the 
rich  contractor  had  encouraged  the  ruined  gentleman  in  the 
excesses  that  ended  the  profligate's  career;  that  the  two  men 
had  staked  large  sums  at  play  in  Bucephalo,  and  that  ina- 
bility to  meet  his  losses  to  Boone  had  caused  Dick  Perley's 
flight.  He  had  been  seen  by  one  of  the  village  people  a  year 
or  two  before  the  war  in  Richmond,  and  had  been  heard  of 
in  California  later,  but  no  word  had  ever  reached  his  family, 
not  even  when  his  wife  died,  two  years  after  his  exile.  There 
were  those  who  said  that  Boone  was  in  correspondence  with 
his  victim,  and  it  was  known  that  drafts,  made  by  Dick  Per- 
ley, had  been  paid  by  Boone  at  the  bank  in  Warchester.  Be- 
tween Boone  and  the  Perley  ladies,  whose  house  was  sepa- 
rated from  "  Acre  Villa  "  by  a  wide  lawn  and  hedge,  there 
had  always  been  the  tacit  enmity  that  wrong  on  one  side 
and  meek  unreproach  on  the  other  breeds.  The  rancor  that 
manifested  itself  in  Boone's  treatment  of  the  Misses  Perley 
was  not  imitated  by  them.  They  never  alluded  to  their  afflu- 
ent neighbor,  never  suffered  gossip  concerning  the  Booues  in 


GUELPH   AND   GHIBELLINE.  39 

what  Olympia  humorously  called  the  "  Orphic  adytum,"  the 
"  tabby-shop,"  as  Wesley  named  the  Perley  parlors.  Young 
Dick,  however,  had  none  of  the  scruples  that  kept  his  aunts 
silent.  One  dreadful  day,  when  he  had  been  nagged  to  fisti- 
cuffs with  Wesley,  whose  dudish  dignity  exacted  a  certain 
restraint  with  the  hot-headed  youngster,  Elisha  Boone,  be- 
hind the  thick  hedge,  heard  on  the  highway  outside  his 
grounds  this  outrageous  anathema: 

"  You're  no  more  than  a  thief,  Wes  Boone  ;  your  father 
stole  all  he's  got.  Some  day  I'll  make  him  give  it  back,  or 
send  him  to  jail,  where  he  ought  to  be  now." 

Schoolboy  though  the  railer  was,  Boone  staggered 
against  the  hedge,  the  words  brought  a  dreadful  flush  and 
then  a  livid  pallor  to  the  miserable  parent's  cheek.  He 
dared  not  trust  himself  to  speak  then.  Nor  was  the  an- 
tipathy the  outbreak  caused  mitigated  by  the  savage  thrash- 
ing that  Wesley,  throwing  aside  his  dignity,  proceeded  to 
administer  to  the  unbridled  accuser.  After  that,  by  the 
father's  sternest  command,  neither  of  his  children  was  to 
return  the  courteous  salutation  the  Perley  ladies  had  never 
ceased  to  bestow  in  meeting  the  Boones  walking  or  in  com- 
pany. Now,  Dick  was  the  kind  of  boy  that  those  who  know 
boy  nature  would  calf  adorable.  To  the  Philistine,  without 
humor  or  sympathy,  I'm  afraid  he  was  a  very  bad  boy..  He 
was  until  late  in  his  teens  painfully  shy  with  grown  people 
and  strangers  ;  even  under  the  eyes  of  his  aunts  and  with 
youths  of  his  own  age,  diffident  to  awkwardness.  He  had 
the  face  of  a  well-fed  cherub  and  the  gentle,  dreamy,  and 
wistful  eye  of  a  girl  in  love.  With  his  elders  he  had  the 
halting,  confused  speech  of  a  new  boy  in  a  big  school.  But 
in  the  woods  or  on  the  playground  he  was  the  merriest, 
most  daring,  and  winningly  obstreperous  lad  that  ever  filled 
three  maiden  aunts  with  terror  and  delight. 


40  THE  IROX   GAME. 

CHAPTER  V. 
A    NAPOLEONIC   EPIGRAM. 

FOR  weeks  the  regiment  expected  every  day  the  order  to 
inarch.  The  guns  had  been  distributed  and  all  their  fasci- 
nating secrets  mastered.  In  evolution  and  manual  the  men 
regarded  themselves  as  quite  equal  to  the  regulars.  The 
strict  orders  forbidding  absence  overnight  were  hardly 
needed,  as  no  one  ventured  far,  fearing  that  the  regiment 
would  be  whirled  away  to  Washington  during  the  night. 
Had  the  men  been  older  or  more  experienced  in  war,  the 
weeks  of  waiting  would  have  been  delightful  rather  than 
dreary.  The  regiment  was  the  object  of  universal  interest 
in  the  town.  Base-ball  and  the  alluring  outdoor  pastimes 
that  now  divert  the  dawdlers  of  cities  were  unknown. 
Hence  the  camp-ground  of  the  Caribees  was  the  matinee, 
ball-match,  tennis,  boating,  all  in  one  of  the  idle  afternoon 
world  of  Warchester.  At  parade  and  battalion  drill  the 
scene  was  like  the  race-ground  on  gala  days. 

All  the  fine  equipages  of  the  town  drew  up  in  the  roads 
and  lanes  flanking  the  camp,  where  with  leveled  glasses  the 
mothers,  sisters,  and  sweethearts  watched  the  columns  as 
they  skirmished,  formed  squares,  or  "  passed  the  defile,"  quite 
sure  that  the  rebels  would  fly  in  confusion  before  such  sur- 
prising manoeuvres.  This  daily  audience  stimulated  such  a 
fierce  rivalry  among  the  companies  that  the  men  turned  out 
at  all  hours  of  the  day  to  drill  and  practice  in  squads,  rather 
than  loiter  about  the  camp.  One  day  great  news  aroused 
the  camp  :  the  Governor  was  to  review  the  regiment  and 
send  it  to  the  front.  All  Warchester  poured  out  to  the 
Holly  Hills,  and  when  at  five  o'clock  the  companies  filed 
out  on  the  shining  green  there  was  such  a  cheer  that  the 
men  felt  repaid  for  the  tiresome  wait  of  months.  The  civic 
commander-in- chief  watched  the  movements  with  affa- 
ble scrutiny,  surrounded  by  a  profusely  uniformed  staff, 
to  whom  he  expressed  the  most  politic  approval.  He 
was  heard  to  remark  that  no  such  soldiers  had  been  seen 


A  NAPOLEONIC   EPIGRAM.  41 

on  this  continent  since  Scott  had  marched  to  Lundy's 
Lane. 

There  was  a  throb  of  passionate  joy  in  the  ranks  when 
this  eulogium  reached  the  men,  for  the  words  were  hardly 
spoken  when  they  were  known  in  every  company  by  that 
mysterious  telegraphy  which  makes  the  human  body  a  con- 
ductor swift  as  an  electric  wire  among  large  masses  of  men. 
Nor  were  the  words  less  relished  that  the  eulogist  was  as 
ignorant  of  military  excellence  as  a  Malay  of  the  uses  of  a 
patent  mower.  The  men,  it  was  easy  to  see,  were  much 
more  efficient  in  movement  than  the  officers  in  handling 
them.  Colonel  Oswald  had  wasted  weeks  in  the  study  of 
the  occult  evolutions  of  the  battalion  ;  they  were  still  a 
maddening  mystery  to  him  that  fatal  day.  For  six  weeks 
his  dreams  had  been  haunted  by  airy  battalions  filing  over 
impossible  defiles.  The  commands  he  gave  that  day  would 
have  thrown  the  companies  into  hopeless  confusion  had  the 
junior  officers  not  boldly  substituted  the  right  ones  for  the 
colonel's  blunders.  This,  however,  passed  unnoted,  for  the 
crowds,  and  even  the  men,  were  not  the  sharp  critics  they 
afterward  became  when  mistakes  by  an  incompetent  officer 
were  saluted  by  shouts  of  ridicule,  and  the  men  contemptu- 
ously disregarded  them.  When  Colonel  Oswald  ordered 
them  to  "  present  arms  "  from  a  "  place  rest "  there  was  more 
perplexity  than  merriment,  and  the  admiring  crowd  saw 
nothing  peculiar  in  one  company  snatching  up  bayonets  to 
present  while  others  remained  perfectly  still. 

Jack,  to  whom  the  manual  was  a  very  sacred  thing,  broke 
into  fierce  ridicule  of  the  commander,  declaring  that  he  was 
better  fitted  for  sutler  than  colonel.  When  the  savage  speech 
was  reported  to  headquarters  that  young  fellow's  prospects 
for  the  straps — never  the  best— were  by  no  means  improved. 
The  review  brought  bitter  disappointment  to  the  regiment. 
The  inspector-general,  who  was  present,  informed  the  colonel 
that  no  more  than  a  thousand  men  could  be  accepted  in  one 
body ;  that  five  hundred  of  the  Caribees  would  have  to  be 
divided  among  other  troops  in  the  State.  The  order  aroused 
wild  excitement.  Half  the  men  looked  upon  the  edict  as  a 


42  THE   IRON   GAME. 

scheme  to  give  the  politicians  more  places  for  their  feuda- 
tories. Indeed,  though  that  was  not  the  origin  of  the  order, 
that  was  the  use  made  of  it.  Some  of  the  junior  officers,  who 
disliked  Oswald  and  distrusted  his  capacity  to  command, 
drew  out  very  willingly,  and  of  course  carried  many  of  their 
men  with  them. 

But  in  the  end  the  matter  had  to  be  decided  by  lot.  Now 
this  chance  threw  Wesley  Boone  out,  and  there  was  great 
rejoicing  in  the  Acredale  group,  who  hoped  that  this  stroke 
of  luck  would  make  place  for  their  favorite,  Jack  Sprague. 
But,  to  everybody's  astonishment,  a  day  or  two  alter  the 
event,  Wesley  resumed  his  place  in  Company  K,  and  gave 
out  that  it  was  by  order  of  the  Governor.  J  ack  was  urged 
by  the  major  of  the  regiment,  who  had  gone  with  the  five 
hundred,  to  cast  his  fortunes  with  the  new  body,  promising 
a  speedy  lieutenancy.  But  Jack  would  not  desert  the  Cari- 
bees.  All  of  Company  K,  and  many  in  the  others,  had  en- 
listed on  his  word,  and  he  could  not  in  honor  leave  them. 
The  opposition  journals  had  from  the  first  denounced  the 
division  of  the  Caribees  as  a  trick  of  the  partisans,  and,  sure 
enough,  the  men  were  given  to  understand  that  there  would 
be  no  move  to  Washington  until  after  the  election,  then 
pending.  This  was  a  municipal  contest,  and  the  Adminis- 
tration party  made  good  use  of  the  incipient  soldiery  to  ob- 
tain a  majority  in  the  town. 

Promotion  was  quite  openly  held  out  as  a  reward  for 
those  Avho  could  influence  most  votes  for  the  Administration 
candidates.  At  night  the  various  companies  were  sent  into 
the  city  to  take  part  in  the  political  propaganda ;  to  march 
in  processions  or  occupy  conspicuous  places  at  the  party 
meetings.  The  private  soldiers  were  almost  to  a  man  Demo- 
crats, but  the  chance  to  escape  the  long  and  irksome  evenings 
of  the  camp  and  join  the  frolic  and  adventure  of  the  street 
made  most  of  them  willing  enough  to  play  the  part  of  claque 
or  figurantes.  Jack,  of  course,  refused  to  take  part  in  these 
scenic  rallies,  making  known  his  sentiments  in  vehement 
disdain.  He  detested  Oswald,  who  had  quit  his  party,  not 
on  a  question  of  principle,  but  merely  for  place,  and  Jack 


A   NAPOLEONIC   EPIGRAM.  43 

did  not  spare  him  in  his  satirical  allusions  to  the  new  uses 
invented  for  the  military. 

A  still  more  trying  injustice  befell  the  luckless  Jack. 
For  a  long  time  he  had,  as  senior,  acted  as  orderly  sergeant 
of  Company  K.  This  officer  is  virtually  the  executive  func- 
tionary in  the  company.  It  is  his  place  to  form  the  men  in 
rank,  make  out  details,  and  prepare  everything  for  the  cap- 
tain. The  orderly  sergeant  is  to  the  company  what  the  adju- 
tant is  to  the  regiment.  He  carries  a  musket  and  marches 
with  the  ranks,  but  in  responsibility  is  not  inferior  to  an 
officer.  One  evening  when  it  was  known  that  orders  had 
come  for  the  regiment  to  march,  Jack,  having  formed  the 
company  for  parade,  received  a  paper  from  the  captain's  or- 
derly to  read.  He  opened  it  without  suspicion,  and,  among 
other  changes  in  the  corps,  read,  "  Thomas  Trask  to  be  first 
sergeant  of  Company  K,  and  he  will  be  obeyed  and  respected 
accordingly."  Jack  read  the  monstrous  wrong  without  a 
tremor.  The  men  flung  down  their  arms  and  broke  into  a 
fierce  clamor  of  rage  and  grief.  Many  of  them  were  Jack's 
classmates.  These  swarmed  about  him.  One,  assuming  the 
part  of  spokesman,  cried  out: 

"It's  an  infamous  outrage.  They  cheated  you  out  of 
your  captaincy ;  they  have  put  every  slight  they  could  upon 
you.  But  we  have  some  rights.  We  won't  stand  this. 
There  are  thirty  of  your  classmates  who  will  do  whatever 
you  say  to  show  these  people  that  they  can't  act  like  this." 

There  were  mutiny  and  desperation  in  the  air.  It  needed 
but  a  spark  to  destroy  the  usefulness  of  the  company.  But, 
as  is  often  the  case  with  impetuous,  hot-headed  spirits,  Jack 
cooled  as  his  friends  grew  hot.  He  .was  the  more  patient 
that  the  injustice  was  his  injury  alone.  He  remained  in  his 
place  at  the  right  of  the  company,  and  confronted  the  re- 
bellious group  with  amazing  self-control.  Then  loud  above 
the  murmuring  his  voice  rang  out: 

"  Company,  attention !  fall  in,  fall  in !  Any  man  out  of 
the  ranks  will  be  sent  to  the  guard-house.  Right  dress, 
steady  on  the  left." 

Many  a  time  afterward  these  angry  mutineers  heard  that 


44  THE   IRON   GAME. 

sonorous,  clear,  boyish  treble  in  stern  and  determined  com- 
mand ;  but  they  never  heard  it  signalize  a  more  heroic  tem- 
per than  at  that  moment,  when,  himself  deeply  wronged,  he 
forced  them  to  go  back  in  the  ranks  to  receive  the  interloper. 
They  "  dressed  up  "  sullenly  as  Jack  called  the  roll  for  the 
last  time,  and  received  Trask,  the  new  orderly,  at  a  "pre- 
sent," which,  though  not  in  the  tactics,  Jack  exacted  as  a 
penitence  for  the  momentary  revolt.  Poor  Trask  looked 
very  unhappy  indeed  as  his  displaced  rival  stepped  back  to  the 
rear  and  left  the  new  orderly  to  march  the  company  out  from 
the  narrow  way  to  take  its  place  in  the  parade.  It  was  easy 
to  see  that  he  would  have  been  very  glad  to  postpone  or 
evade  his  new  honors,  on  any  pretext,  for  the  time.  He  was 
so  confused  that  Jack,  from  the  flank,  was  obliged  to  re- 
peat the  few  commands  needed  to  get  the  company  to  the 
field. 

Fortunately  for  the  efficiency  of  the  raw  army,  as  this 
public  discontent  reached  its  most  acute  stage  orders  came  to 
march  the  troops  to  Washington.  The  Caribees  were  the 
first  body  of  soldiers  sent  from  Warchester,  and  there  was  a 
memorable  scene  when  the  jaunty  ranks  filed  through  the 
streets  to  the  station.  By  the  time  the  men  reached  the 
train  they  discovered  that  they  could  never  make  war  laden 
down  as  they  were  by  knapsacks  filled  with  the  preposter- 
ous impedimenta  feminine  foresight  had  provided. 

The  men's  backs  bulged  out  with  such  a  pack  of  supplies 
that  when  the  regiment  halted  each  man  was  forced  to 
kneel  and  let  a  comrade  take  off  or  put  on  his  knapsack. 
And  then  the  march  through  the  streets— every  man  known 
to  scores  in  the  throng!  The  brisk,  high-stepping  drum 
corps  rat-a-tattiiig  at  intervals ;  then  tempests  of  cheers,  flash- 
ing banners  and  patriotic  symbols  at  every  window;  tears, 
laughter,  humorous  cries,  .jokes,  sobbing  outbreaks.  The 
whole  city  was  in  march  as  the  Caribees  reached  the  thronged 
main  thoroughfare.  Ready  hands  relieved  the  soldiers  of 
their  burden  as  the  line  filed  in  sight  of  the  Governor,  who 
had  come  to  speed  the  parting  braves. 

Lads  and  lasses  made  merry  with  the  elated  warriors. 


A   NAPOLEONIC   EPIGRAM.  45 

The  muskets  were  turned  into  bouquet-holders,  and  the  first 
move  toward  real  war  took  on  the  air  of  a  floral/fife.  There 
were  popping  corks  and  sounds  of  convivial  revelry  that 
made  the  scene  anything  but  warlike.  Jack,  in  a  cluster  of 
his  town  cronies,  caught  sight  of  his  mother  at  one  of  the 
windows  of  the  Parthenon  Hotel.  He  wafted  her  a  joyous 
kiss,  pretending  not  to  see  the  tears  falling  down  her  cheeks. 
Olympia  was  not  apparently  very  deeply  affected.  She 
made  her  way  through  the  crowd  to  her  brother's  side,  and 
with  an  air  of  the  liveliest  interest  demanded : 

"  Jack,  what  have  you  in  your  knapsack  ?    Let  me  see." 

"  O  Polly,  it's  such  a  job  to  close  it !  What  do  you  want  ? 
It  is  harder  to  manage  than  a  Saratoga  trunk.  I  can't  real- 
ly stuff  another  pin  or  needle  in,  so  pray  keep  what  you 
have  for  my  furlough." 

"  No,  I  am  not  going  to  put  anything  in."  She  bent  over 
while  Barney  Moore,  one  of  Jack's  Acredale  comrades,  gal- 
lantly loosed  the  straps.  She  searched  carefully  through 
the  divers  articles,  taking  everything  out,  Jack  looking  on 
ruefully  while  his  companions  gathered  about  in  vague  curi- 
osity. When  she  had  removed  and  restored  everything  she 
arose,  saying:  "  I  feel  easier  now.  I  merely  looked  to  see  if 
that  marshal's  bdton  I  have  heard  so  much  about  was  there. 
I  shall  feel  easy  in  my  mind  now,  because  a  bdton  in  your 
baggage  would  have  made  you  too  adventurous." 

There  was  a  great  shout  of  laughter  as  the  fun  of  the  in- 
cident flashed  upon  the  listeners,  many  of  whom  had  heard 
the  ingenuous  Jack  often  in  other  days  sighing  for  war,  and 
the  chance  that  Napoleon  said  every  man  had  of  finding  a 
marshal's  bdton  in  his  knapsack.  Jack  bore  the  banter 
very  equably,  knowing  that  Olympia  was  rather  striving  to 
keep  his  spirits  up  and  divert  him  from  the  tears  in  his 
mother's  eyes  than  indulge  her  own  humor.  Indeed,  most 
of  the  gayety  at  this  moment  was  contributed  by  those 
whose  hearts  were  heaviest.  The  consecrated  priesthood 
of  patriotism  must  see  no  weakness  in  those  left  behind. 
The  only  sou,  now  brought  face  to  face  with  the  meaning 
and  consequence  of  his  rashly  seized  chance  for  glory,  must 


46  THE   IRON   GAME. 

not  be  reminded  that  perhaps  a  grave  lay  beyond  the  thin 
veil  of  the  near  future ;  must  not  be  reminded  that  heavy 
hearts  and  dim  eyes  were  left  behind,  feeding  day  by  day, 
hour  by  hour,  on  terror  and  dread,  unsupported  by  the 
changing  scenes,  the  wild  excitement,  and  the  joyous  vicissi- 
tudes of  the  soldier's  life.  It  was  a  cruel  comedy  acted  every 
day  between  1861  and  1865.  They  laughed  who  were  not  gay, 
and  they  seemed  indifferent  who  were  fainting  with  despair. 
The  courage  of  battle  is  mere  brutish  insensibility  compared 
with  the  abnegation  of  the  million  mothers  who  gave  their 
boys  to  the  bestial  maw  of  war. 

The  harrowing  ceremonial  of  parting  is  ended.  The 
train  moves  slowly  out  of  the  station,  and  a  murmur  of  sobs 
and  cheers  echoes  until  it  is  far  beyond  the  easternmost  lim- 
its of  the  city.  After  a  journey  of  two  days  and  a  night  the 
train  reached  Philadelphia.  Jack  was  all  eyes  and  ears 
for  the  spectacle  the  country  presented.  In  every  station 
through  which  the  regiment  passed  crowds  welcomed  the 
blue-coats.  Women  fed  them,  or  those  who  seemed  in  need, 
thinking,  perhaps,  of  their  own  distant  darliugs  receiving 
like  tenderness  from  the  stranger. 

In  Philadelphia  the  regiment  marched  across  the  city  to 
resume  its  journey.  It  was  a  cold  spring  night,  and  the 
regimental  quartermaster  and  commissary  had  made  no  pro- 
vision for  the  men.  Indeed,  as  the  observant  Jack  afterward 
learned,  it  was  part  of  the  plan  of  the  groups  that  first  began 
to  create  great  fortunes  during  the  war  to  make  the  soldiers 
pay  for  their  rations  en  route  to  the  seat  of  war,  or  depend 
upon  the  charity  of  citizens  along  the  railway  lines.  The 
Government  paid  for  the  supplies  just  the  same,  while  the 
money  went  into  the  pockets  of  contractors  and  quarter- 
masters. After  a  weary  tramp  through  what  seemed  to  the 
soldiers  the  biggest  city  in  the  world,  the  regiment,  with 
blistered  feet,  hungry  and  cross,  were  halted  before  a  long, 
low  wooden  building,  through  whose  rough  glass  windows 
cheerful  lights  could  be  seen.  A  rumor  spread  that  they 
were  to  have  a  hot  supper,  and,  sure  enough,  they  were 
marched  in,  dividing  on  each  side  of  four  long  tables  that 


ON  THE  POTOMAC.  47 

stretched  into  spectral  distance,  in  the  feeble  glimmer  of  the 
oil-lamps  hanging  from  the  ceiling.  Most  of  the  men  in 
Jack's  company,  at  least,  were  gently  nurtured,  but  the 
steaming  oysters,  cold  beef,  and  generous  "  chunks  "  of 
bread,  filled  their  eyes  with  a  magnificence  and  their  stom- 
achs with  a  gentle  repletion  no  banquet  before  or  after  ever 
equaled.  The  feast  was  set  in  the  same  place  during  four 
years,  by  the  Sanitary  Society,  I  think,  but  the  memory  of 
that  homely  board,  plenteously  spread,  is  in  the  mind  of 
many  a  veteran  who  faced  warward  during  the  conflict. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

ON  THE  POTOMAC. 

THE  next  morning,  when  the  men  debarked  to  march 
through  Baltimore,  every  one  was  on  the  qui  vive  to  fasten 
in  his  memory  the  scene  of  the  shameful  attack  upon  the 
soldiers  of  Massachusetts  on  the  19th  of  April.  But,  as  the 
line  marched  proudly  down  Pratt  Street,  there  were  no  signs 
of  the  hostile  spirit  that  made  Baltimore  a  center  of  doubt 
and  suspicion  in  the  North  for  many  a  day  afterward.  It 
was,  however,  when  the  train  dashed  out  from  among  the 
hills  to  the  northwest  of  the  sheet  of  water  behind  the  capitol 
that  the  Caribees  glued  their  eyes  to  the  panes  in  awe  not 
unmingled  with  delight.  No  American  will  ever  look  upon 
that  imperial  dome  again  with  the  sensations  that  filled  the 
breasts  of  those  who  first  saw  its  rounded  outlines  in  the  war 
epoch.  What  the  ark  of  the  covenant  was  to  the  armies 
that  marched  in  the  wilderness,  or  the  cross  of  St.  Peter  to 
the  pilgrims  approaching  Rome,  that  the  great  dome,  tower- 
ing cloudward  in  the  perpetual  blue,  was  to  the  wondering 
eye  of  the  soldier  as  his  glance  first  fell  upon  it ;  that  it  was 
for  months — yes,  ever  after — on  the  plains  of  Arlington  and 
in  the  deadly  exhalations  of  the  Chickahominy.  Every  one 
4 


48  THE   IRON   GAME. 

looked  anxiously  to  see  signs  of  war — indeed,  since  leaving 
Baltimore,  there  was  a  delicious  feeling  of  suspense — as  the 
train  shot  over  embankments  or  skirted  the  deep  pine  woods. 
Perhaps  an  adventurous  rebel  vanguard  might  attack  them. 
Perhaps  they  might  have  the  glory  of  fighting  their  way  to 
the  beleaguered  capital.  Perhaps  Father  Abraham  might 
come  out  and  smile  benignantly  at  them  for  a  brave  deed 
well  done.  Faces  flushed  and  eyes  sparkled  in  the  delight- 
ful anticipation :  and  some  of  the  ardent  spirits,  more  eager 
than  the  others,  loaded  their  muskets  to  be  ready  !  But,  be- 
yond the  Federal  picket-post  at  the  stations,  no  sign  of  war 
was  seen,  nor  much  sign  of  hostilities,  such  as  the  vivid 
fancies  of  the  raw  young  warriors  conjured. 

But  now  the  train  was  at  rest,  and  the  officers — who  had 
not  been  seen  during  the  journey— turned  out  in  resplendent 
plumery.  The  station — in  those  days  a  tumble-down  bar- 
rack— was  already  crowded  with  soldiery.  The  Caribees 
were  aligned  along  the  track,  the  officers  so  bewildered  by 
the  confusion  that  it  was  by  a  miracle  some  of  the  groups  of 
moving  men  were  not  run  over  by  the  backing  engines. 
After  an  interminable  delay,  the  band  set  up  "  We're  coming 
down  to  "Washington  to  fight  for  Abraham's  daughter !  "  and 
with  exuberant  joy  a  thousand  pairs  of  legs  kept  brisk  step 
and  elastic  movement  to  the  inspiriting  strain.  Now  the 
longing  eyes  see  the  circumstance  and  even  some  of  the  pomp 
of  war.  The  regiment  debouches  into  Pennsylvania  Avenue, 
under  the  very  shadow  of  the  Capitol,  which  looks  sadly 
shabby  and  disproportioned  to  the  eyes  that  had  an  hour  or 
two  before  opened  in  such  admiration  at  the  first  view.  But 
there  is  no  time  for  architectural  criticism.  They  are  mov- 
ing down  the  avenue  toward  the  White  House,  toward  the 
home  of  that  patient,  kindly,  sorely-tried  ruler — the  Democ- 
ritus  of  his  grisly  epoch.  The  Caribees  excite  none  of  the 
sensation  here  they  have  been  accustomed  to.  The  streets 
are  not  crowded,  and  the  few  civilians  passing  hardly  turn 
their  heads.  Mounted  orderlies  dash  hurriedly,  with  hideous 
clatter  of  sabre  and  equipments,  across  the  line  of  march, 
through  the  very  regiment's  ranks,  answering  with  a  dis- 


OX   THE   POTOM-AC.  49 

dainful  oath  or  mocking  gibe  when  an  outraged  shoulder- 
strap  raised  a  remonstrating  voice.  At  Fourteenth  Street 
the  Caribees  were  halted  until  the  colonel  could  take  his 
bearings  from  headquarters,  just  around  the  corner.  The 
wide  sidewalks  were  dense  with  bestarred  and  epauleted  per- 
sonages in  various  keys  of  discussion.  Jack  and  his  crony, 
Barney  Moore,  studied  the  scene  in  wonder.  Their  company 
was  halted  exactly  at  the  corner  of  Fourteenth  Street  and 
Pennsylvania  Avenue,  and  the  two  were  standing  at  Wil- 
lard's  corner. 

"  I  wonder  if  the  President  just  stands  and  throws  the 
stars  down  from  that  balcony  ? "  Jack  said,  as  the  crowd  of 
brigadiers  thickened  before  the  hotel  door.  "  What  on  earth 
are  they  all  doing  here  ? " 

"  Oh,  they  come  to  make  requisition  on  General  Bacchus ; 
he's  the  commissary -general  of  the  brigadiers— don't  you 
know  ? "  Barney  said,  innocently. 

"  General  Bacchus  ?  Barney,  you're  crazy— there's  no 
such  officer  in  the  army — I  know  all  the  names — you  mean 
General  Banks,  don't  you  ? " 

"  Oh,  no,  I'm  not  mistaken — General  Bacchus  has  been 
selected  to  deal  out  the  esprit  de  corps  !  " 

u  L'esprit  de  corps  ?  Barney,  you're  certainly  tipsy. 
I'm  ashamed  of  you !  " 

"  Yes,  the  spirit  of  that  corps,  as  you  can  tel]  from  the 
whiffs  that  come  this  way,  is  the  whisky-bottle.  Bacchus 
presides  over  that  spirit.  One  would  think  you'd  never 
read  an  eclogue  of  Virgil— you're  duller  than  a  doctor  of 
divinity's  after-dinner  speech!  A  tutor's  joke  is  the  utmost 
wit  you  ought  to  bear." 

"  And  so  you  call  that  a  joke  ? " 

"  Well,  it  isn't  a  cough,  a  song,  an  oath,  or — or  anything 
old  Oswald  would  say,  so  it  must  be  a  joke." 

"  Well,  in  that  sense  it  may  pass,  like  a  tipsy  soldier  with- 
out the  countersign." 

"  Oh,  come  now,  Jack,  these  stars  are  really  dazzling  you ! " 

"  Not  but  I'll  make  you  see  some  that  will  dazzle  you,  if 
you  don't  treat  your  superior  more  respectfully." 


50  THE  IRON  GAME. 

"  Oh,  the  punch  you  think  of  giving  me  wouldn't  solve 
this  star  problem;  it  requires  to  be  made  in  the  old— the 
milky  way." 

But  Barney's  astral  jokes  were  brought  to  a  period  by 
the  sharp  note  of  the  bugle,  as  Colonel  Oswald,  very  im- 
portant under  the  eye  of  so  many  big-wigs,  magnificently 
ordered  the  march.  The  regiment  passed  up  the  steep  hill, 
out  Fourteenth  Street— then  a  red  clay  thoroughfare  of  sticky 
mire  with  only  here  and  there  a  negro's  shanty  where  the 
palaces  of  the  rich  rise  to-day.  The  men  learned  something 
of  their  future  enemy,  Virginia  mud,  as  they  climbed  the 
red  gorge  and  debouched  on  Meridian  Hill,  where,  pres- 
ently, an  aide-de-camp  marked  the  ground  assigned  the  regi- 
ment, and  the  real  life  of  the  soldier  began.  How  tame  to 
tell,  but  how  "  imperial  the  hour  "  when  these  one  thousand 
lads  first  went  on  guard  !  Yes,  the  fact  was  now  before 
them.  They  were  no  longer  segregated  atoms,  inert,  inef- 
fective, eccentric.  They  were  part  of  that  mighty  bulwark 
of  blood  and  iron  that  stood  between  law  and  rebellion, 
between  the  nation's  heart  and  the  assassin  dagger  of  dis- 
T2Hr.on. 

How  proud  and  glad  and  manly  they  felt,  these  bright- 
eyed  boys — for  boys  they  mostly  were;  not  a  hundred  in  the 
regiment  had  seen  their  five-and-twentieth  year.  One  razor 
would  have  been  ample  for  the  beards  of  the  whole  battal- 
ion. And  oh,  the  nameless,  the  intoxicating  sense  of  soli- 
darity as  they  swept  the  vast  reach  of  hillsides,  and  saw  the 
white  tents  in  brooding  immensity  on  either  hand  !  Yes, 
yonder,  far  across  the  wondrous  belt  of  water,  touching  loy- 
alty and  rebellion  in  its  mighty  rush  seaward,  they  could  dis- 
tinguish the  cities  of  canvas  on  the  distant  Virginia  shore. 

u  It  makes  a  fellow  feel  as  Godfrey's  hosts  felt  when  they 
came  in  sight  of  the  Bosporus,  and  the  hordes  of  the  Sara- 
cens on  the  plains  of  the  Hellespont,"  Jack  said,  exultingly, 
as  Barney  stood  on  a  pile  of  camp  equipages  above  him,  sur- 
veying the  quickening  spectacle. 

"  I  don't  know  how  Godfrey's  fellows  felt,  Jack,  but  it  do 
make  a  man  feel  kinder  able  to  do  something  with  so  many 


ON  THE   POTOMAC.  51 

near  by  to  lend  a  hand.  But,  stars  and  garters  !  what  a  head 
it  must  take  to  manage  all  these  !  Fair  and  square,  now, 
Jack,  you  feel  the  fires  of  military  genius  in  your  big  head 
— do  you  think  that  you  could  disentangle  this  enormous 
coil— put  each  corps,  division,  and  regiment,  in  its  proper 
place — at  a  day's  notice  ? " 

"Oh,  I  couldn't  perhaps  do  it  just  to-day;  but  give  me 
time  ! " 

"  Yes,  I'll  give  you  to  the  age  of  Methuselah,  and  then  if 
you  can  manage  it  I  shall  not  lose  faith  in  you." 

"  Come,  men,  the  tents  must  be  up  before  dark.  Sergeant 
Sprague,  your  squad  has  five  tents  for  its  detail.  You'll  find 
axes  and  tools  at  the  quartermaster's  wagon  on  the  hill  yon- 
der ! "  It  was  the  captain  who  spoke,  and,  an  instant  later, 
the  plot  of  ground,  perhaps  an  acre  and  a  half  in  area,  was 
a  scene  of  rollicking  labor.  Each  company  had  a  street,  the 
tents — calculated  to  hold  four  each,  but  the  number  varied, 
going  up  often  as  high  as  six — faced  each  other,  leaving  room 
enough  for  the  company  to  march  in  column  or  in  line  be- 
tween the  white  walls.  As  the  regiment  would  be  presuma- 
bly some  time  on  the  ground,  the  canvas  tents  rested  on  the 
top  of  a  palisade  of  logs  cut  in  the  neighboring  woods. 
These  were  five  feet  or  more  in  length,  and  when  driven 
into  the  ground  a  foot,  and  banked  by  the  sticky  clay,  served 
excellently  as  walls  upon  which  to  rest  the  A  tents.  Two 
berths,  sometimes  four,  were  fastened  laterally  on  these 
walls,  frames  running  up  to  the  center  of  the  A  held  the 
guns,  while  lines  stretched  across  from  above  served  as 
wardrobes  for  such  garments  as  could  be  hung  up. 

All  this  manoeuvring  for  space  in  such  close  quarters  was 
great  fun  for  lads  accustomed  to  roomy  houses,  and  careless, 
almost  to  slovenliness,  in  the  matter  of  keeping  things  in 
place.  Absurd  as  these  details  may  seem,  they  were  all 
parts,  and  very  important  parts,  in  the  life  and  training  of 
that  mighty  host  that  carried  the  destiny  of  the  country  in 
its  discipline  during  four  years.  There  was  rigid  inspection 
of  quarters  every  Sunday  morning,  and  during  the  week  the 
non-commissioned  officers  were  expected  to  see  that  cleanli- 


52  THE   IRON   GAME. 

ness  was  not  intermitted.  The  company  "  street "  was  "  po- 
liced "  every  morning  after  breakfast,  swept  and  garnished, 
that  is,  with  the  care  of  a  Dutch  housewife.  Order  is  the 
first  law  of  the  soldier  as  well  as  of  Heaven,  and  many  a 
careless  lad  brought  from  his  four  years'  drill  method  and 
painstaking  that  made  him  of  more  value  to  himself  and 
his  neighbors. 

Personal  traits,  too,  could  be  divined  in  these  toy-like  in- 
teriors. The  regulations  prescribed  the  arrangement  of  the 
"  bunks,"  blankets  folded,  knapsacks  laid  at'  the  head  of  the 
bed,  accoutrements  burnished  until,  at  first  sight,  the  four 
guns  in  the  rack  seemed  to  be  a  mirror  for  the  orderly  spirit 
of  this  thrifty  grot.  The  shining  plates,  cups,  and  spoons, 
would  have  done  no  discredit  to  the  most  energetic  house- 
wife, as  they  hung  from  pegs  either  above  the  bunks  or  along 
the  wall.  If  running  water  were  not  accessible,  every  tent 
had  a  tin  basin  for  the  morning  ablution,  each  soldier  taking 
turn  good-humoredly.  The  household  duties  were  scrupu- 
lously observed,  each  man  assuming  his  role  in  the  compli- 
cated menage. 

It  was  fully  a  week  before  the  Caribees  were  installed 
ready  for  Sunday  inspection,  as  no  exigency  was  permitted 
to  interfere  with  morning  and  afternoon  drill,  guard-mount, 
and  parade.  Battalion  and  brigade  drill,  too,  were  new  di- 
versions for  the  Caribees,  as  now,  camped  near  other  troops, 
these  more  complicated  movements  were  part  of  the  regi- 
ment's allotted  duty.  After  they  were  sufficiently  trained 
in  this  they  were  to  take  part  in  a  grand  review  by  the  gen- 
eral-in-chief,  when  the  President,  the  Secretary  of  War,  and 
all  the  great  folks  in  Washington  rode  out  to  witness  the 
spectacle. 

There  was  no  time  for  dullness.  Every  hour  had  its 
duty,  and  these  soon  became  second  nature  to  the  zealous 
young  warriors.  Such  rivalry  to  best  master  the  manual,  to 
hold  the  most  soldierly  stature  in  the  ranks,  to  detect  the 
drill-sergeant  when,  to  test  their  attention,  he  gave  a  false 
command !  And  then  the  coronal  joy  of  a  reward  of  merit 
for  efficiency  and  alertness  on  guard !  The  rapture  the  bit 


ON  THE   POTOMAC.  53 

of  paper  brought,  and  the  exultation  with  which  the  h«ro 
thus  signalized  went  off  to  town  for  the  day,  wandered 
through  the  waste  of  streets,  stood  before  Willard's  and  ad- 
mired in  awe  and  wonder  the  indolent  groups  from  whose 
shoulders  gleamed  one  and  sometimes  two  stars!  One  day 
Jack  and  Barney,  walking  in  Fifteenth  Street,  saw  a  stout 
man,  with  no  insignia  to  indicate  rank  or  station,  coming 
out  of  the  headquarters  hurriedly.  He  walked  to  the  edge 
of  the  pavement,  and,  looking  up  and  down,  seemed  discon- 
certed. Noticing  the  two  lads,  he  came  to  where  Jack  was 
standing  in  a  preoccupied  way,  and  the  two  saluted  deco- 
rously. He  returned  the  salute  and  asked : 

"  Sergeant,  are  you  on  duty  ?  " 

"  No,  sir;  I'm  on  leave  for  the  day." 

"Ah,  good;  my  orderly  was  here  a  moment  ago,  but  I 
don't  see  him  anywhere.  Would  you  mind  taking  this  tele- 
gram to  the  War  Department,  through  the  park  yonder  ? " 

He  gave  Jack  an  envelope  and  hurried  back  into  the 
building  as  the  two  lads  started  with  alacrity  across  the 
street. 

"  I've  seen  that  chap  before,  somewhere,"  Barney  said, 
panting  with  the  rapid  pace. 

"  He's  a  staff  officer,  I  suppose,  not  very  high  rank,  for 
he  only  had  a  blouse  on.  General  officers  always  wear 
double-button  frocks  even  if  they  don't  carry  the  insignia." 

The  War  Department  was  easy  of  access,  an  old  building 
not  unlike  Jack's  own  home  in  Acredale.  He  asked  the  sen- 
try at  the  door  where  his  envelops  was  to  be  delivered.  The 
man  looked  at  it,  pointed  to  a  closed  door,  and  Jack,  receiv- 
ing no  response  to  his  knock,  entered.  Three  men  were  in 
the  room.  One  was  seated  at  a  vast  desk  with  papers,  maps, 
dispatches,  and  books  piled  in  disheartening  confusion,  with- 
in reach  of  his  hand.  Behind  him  a  young  captain  in  uni- 
form sat  writing.  But  the  figure  that  fixed  Jack's  reveren- 
tial attention  was  half  sprawling,  half  lying  over  the  heaped- 
up  impediments  of  the  big  desk.  The  young  soldier  caught 
sight  of  the  serious,  sad  face,  the  wistful  humorous  eyes,  and 
he  knew,  with  a  thrill  through  all  his  body  and  an  adoring 


54:  THE  IRON  GAME. 

throb  in  his  breast,  that  it  was  the  President — hapless  heritor 
of  generations  of  disjointed  time.  Ail  thought  of  his  er- 
rand, all  thought  of  place  and  person,  faded  as  he  realized 
this  presence.  How  long  he  would  have  remained  in  this 
mute  adoration  there  is  no  telling.  The  restless,  keen  eyes 
looked  up  sharply  and  a  dissonant,  imperious,  repellent  voice 
jerked  out: 

"  Well,  my  man,  what  is  it  ?  " 

Without  a  word  Jack  handed  him  the  envelope,  and  with 
a  sort  of  reverence  to  the  tall  figure  whose  face  was  turned 
kindly  toward  him  he  backed  to  the  door. 

"  O  Barney,  I've  seen  the  President ! " 

"  Seen  the  President !  No?  Oh!  Why  could  not  I  have 
gone  in  with  you  ?  It's  always  my  luck." 

''No;  it  was  my  luck.  But  take  heart.  He  will  come 
out  pretty  soon,  and  we'll  loaf  about  here.  Perhaps  we  can 
see  him  as  he  goes  back  to  the  White  House  yonder." 

But  though  they  waited  far  into  the  afternoon,  forget- 
ting their  dinner  in  the  impulse  of  homage,  they  did  not 
catch  sight  of  the  well-known  figure,  for  the  President's  way 
to  the  Secretary's  room  was  a  private  one,  and  when  he  went 
away  the  boys  of  course  could  not  see  him.  But  Jack's  good 
fortune  was  the  talk  of  the  regiment  for  many  a  day,  and 
for  months  when  the  fellows  of  the  Caribee  got  leave  they 
lingered  expectantly  about  the  modest  headquarters,  hoping 
that  a  missing  orderly  might  bring  them  Jack  Sprague's 
proud  distinction  of  seeing  the  President  face  to  face.  On 
the  grand  review,  a  few  days  later,  Jack  and  his  crony  were 
reminded  of  the  encounter  at  headquarters,  for  the  man  who 
had  given  the  envelope  to  carry  to  the  war  office  was  riding 
a  splendid  horse  next  to  the  President.  Two  stars  glittered 
on  his  shoulder  now,  and  as  he  answered  the  cheers  that  sa- 
luted the  group,  the  young  men  saw  that  it  was  General 
McDowell,  the  commander  of  the  forces.  The  President 
rode  along  the  lines,  with  a  kindly  wistfulness  in  the  honest 
eyes  that  studied  with  no  superficial  glance  the  long  line  of 
shouting  soldiery.  He  was  not  an  imposing  figure  in  the 
sense  of  cavalier  bravery,  but  no  man  that  watched  as  he 


THE  STEP  THAT  COSTS.  55 

moved  in  the  glittering  group,  conspicuous  by  his  somber 
black  and  high  hat,  ever  forgot  the  melancholy,  rapt  regard 
he  gave  the  ranks,  as  at  an  easy  canter  he  passed  the  fronts 
of  the  squares  or  sat  solemnly  at  the  march  past  that  con- 
cluded the  review. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

THE  STEP  THAT  COSTS. 

WHAT  between  the  doings  of  the  camp  and  the  daily  visit 
to  Washington,  "  soldiering  "  grew  into  an  enchanting  exist- 
ence for  the  young  warriors  of  the  Caribee.  Their  quarters 
were  on  the  high  plateaus  north  and  west  of  the  city — which 
were  in  those  days  shaded  slopes,  that  made  suburban  Wash- 
ington a  vale  of  Tempe.  In  the  streets  they  saw  bedizened 
officers,  from  commanders  of  armies  down  to  presidential 
orderlies.  In  the  Senate  and  House  they  heard  the  voices 
of  men  afterward  potent  in  public  councils. 

What  an  exuberant,  vagrant  life  it  was  !  The  blood 
warms  and  the  nerves  tingle  after  the  tensions  and  heats  of 
a  quarter  of  a  century  as  those  days  of  sublime  vagabondage 
come  back.  The  melodious  morning  calls  that  waked  the 
sleepy,  lusty  young  bodies  ;  the  echoing  bugle  and  the  ab- 
rupt drum  !  And  then  the  roll-call,  in  the  misty  morning 
when  the  sun,  blear  and  very  red,  rose  as  if  blushing,  or 
apoplectic  after  the  night's  carouse  !  It  was  an  army  of  po- 
ets—of Homers— that  began  the  never  monotonous  routine 
of  these  memorable  days,  for  the  incense  of  national  sympa- 
thy came  faint  but  intoxicating  to  the  soldier's  nostrils  in 
the  visits  of  great  statesmen,  the  picnics  of  civilians,  the 
copious  descriptive  letters  of  correspondents  and  the  daily 
scrawls  from  far-away  valleys,  where  fond  eyes  watched  the 
sun  rise,  noted  the  stars,  to  mark  the  special  duties  their  dar- 
lings were  doing  in  the  watches  of  the  night.  And  then  the 
mad  music  of  cheers  when  the  news  came  that  the  young 


53  THE   IRON   GAME. 

McClellan  in  West  Virginia  had  scattered  the  adventurous 
columns  of  Lee,  capturing  guns,  men,  and  arms,  and  forever 
saving  the  great  Kanawha  country  to  the  Union  !  And  in 
Kentucky  the  rebels  had  been  outmanoeuvred  ;  while  in  Mis- 
souri the  glorious  Lyon  and  the  crafty  Blair  had,  one  in  the 
Cabinet,  the  other  in  the  camp,  routed  the  secret,  black,  and 
Janus-like  rabble  of  treason  and  anarchy. 

To  feel  that  he  was  part  of  all  this  ;  that,  at  rest  in  the 
iron  ring  girdling  the  capital,  he  was  might  in  leash  ;  that 
to-morrow  he  would  be  vengeance  let  loose — this  was  the 
sustaining,  exulting  thought  that  made  the  volunteer  the 
best  of  soldiers.  His  heart  was  all  in  the  glorious  ardor 
for  action.  Night  and  morning  he  looked  proudly  at  the 
sacred  ensign  waving  lightly  in  the  summer  breeze,  and  he 
remembered  that  the  eyes  of  Washington  had  rested  on  the. 
same  standard  at  Valley  Forge  ;  that  the  sullen  battalions 
of  Cornwallis  had  saluted  it  at  Yorktown. 

It  was  a  beautiful  ardor  that  filled  the  young  hosts  that 
waited  in  leash  on  the  green  hills  of  the  Potomac  those 
months  of  turmoil,  when  Scott  and  McDowell  were  strain- 
ing the  crude  machinery  of  war  to  get  ready  for  the  vital 
lunge.  Jack  and  his  Acredale  squad,  as  the  college  fellows 
were  called,  lived  in  a  perpetual  dream,  from  which  the 
hard  realities  of  drill,  now  six  hours  a  day,  could  not  waken 
them.  In  days  of  release  they  scoured  the  Maryland  hills, 
secretly  hoping  that  an  adventurous  rebel  picket  might  ap- 
pear and  give  them  occasion  to  return  to  camp  decked  with 
preluding  laurels.  Mile  after  mile  of  the  charming  wood- 
land country  they  scoured,  their  hearts  beating  at  the  ap- 
pearance of  any  animate  thing  that  for  a  brief,  intoxicat- 
ing moment  they  could  conjure  into  a  rebel  advance  post. 
But,  beyond  wan  and  reticent  yokels,  engaged  in  the  primi- 
tive husbandry  of  this  slave  section,  they  never  encountered 
any  one  that  could  be  counted  overt  enemies  of  the  cause. 
Money  was  plenty  among  these  excursive  groups,  and  they 
were  welcomed  in  Company  K  with  effusive  outbreaks  by 
their  less  restive  comrades. 

As  July  wore  on,  the  signs  of  movement  grew.     Regi- 


THE  STEP  THAT  COSTS.  57 

ments  were  moved  away  mysteriously,  and  soon  the  Cari- 
bees  were  almost  alone  on  Meridian  Hill.  Jack  was  filled 
with  dire  fears  that  the  commanding  officer,  having  discov- 
ered the  incompetency  of  Oswald,  feared  to  take  the  Caribees 
to  the  front.  Something  of  the  rumor  spread  through  the 
regiment,  and  if,  as  reputed,  "  Old  Sauerkraut "  (this  was  the 
name  he  got  behind  his  back)  had  spies  in  all  the  companies, 
the  adage  about  listeners  was  abundantly  confirmed.  In  the 
secrecy  of  Jack's  tent,  however,  the  subject  was  freely  dis- 
cussed. Nick  Marsh,  the  poet  of  the  class,  as  became  the 
mystic  tendencies  of  his  tribe,  was  for  poisoning  the  detested 
Pomeranian — Oswald  was  a  compatriot  of  Bismarck,  often 
boasting,  as  the  then  slowly  emerging  statesman  became 
more  widely  known,  that  he  lived  in  his  near  neighborhood. 
Marsh's  suggestion  fell  upon  fruitful  perceptions.  Bernard 
Moore — Barney,  for  short — was  to  be  a  physician,  and  "had 
already  passed  an  apprenticeship  in  a  pharmacy,  coincident 
with  his  college  term  in  Jack's  class. 

"  By  the  powers  of  mud  and  blood,  Nick,  dear,  I  have 
it!" 

"  Have  what,  Barney,  me  b'y  ? "  Nick  asked,  mimicking 
Barney's  quaintly  displaced  vowels. 

"  Why,  the  way  to  get  rid  of  Old  Schnapps  and  Blitzen — 
more  power  to  me ! " 

''All  the  power  you  want,  if  you'll  only  do  that;  and 
your  voice  will  be  as  sweet  as  '  the  harp  that  once  in  Tara's 
halls—'" 

"Never  moind  the  harp  —  Sassenach  —  here's  what  we 
can  do.  Tim  Hussey  is  Oswald's  orderly ;  he  and  I  are  good 
friends.  I  know  a  preparation  that  will  turn  the  sauerkraut 
and  sausages,  that  Oswald  eats  so  much  of,  into  degluted  fire 
and  brimstone,  warranted  to  keep  him  on  the  broad  of  his 
back  for  ten  days  or  a  fortnight.  Will  ye  all  swear  secrecy  ? " 

"  We  will !    We  will ! " 

"  On  what  ? " 

"On  the  double  crown  on  your  head,"  Jack  answered, 
solemnly,  "  which  you  have  often  told  us  was  considered  a 
sign  that  an  angel  had  touched  you — I'm  sure  nothing  could 


58  THE   IRON  GAME. 

be  more  solemn  than  that.  It  isn't  every  fellow  that  can 
get  an  angel  to  touch  the  top  of  his  head." 

"No;  most  fellows  can  consider  themselves  lucky  if  an 
angel  touches  their  lips — or  heart,"  Barney  cried,  naively. 

"  Well,  never  mind  that  sort  of  angel  now,  Barney,"  Nick 
said,  pettishly ;  "  I  notice  that  you  always  bring  up  with  some- 
thing about  the  girls,  no  matter  what  the  subject  we  set  off 
on.  It's  the  jalap— isn't  that  what  it's  called  ?— we  want  to 
hear  about." 

"  There  isn't  enough  poetry  or  sentiment  in  the  two  o' 
ye  to  fill  a  wind-blown  buttercup.  No  wonder  ye  don't  care 
to  talk  of  the  gurls — they'll  have  none  of  ye." 

"  We'll  be  satisfied  if  they'll  have  you,  Barney.  I'm  sure 
that's  magnanimous.  But  if  your  jalap  takes  as  much  time 
in  working  Old  Schnapps  as  you  take  in  explaining  it,  the 
war  will  be  over,  and  we  shall  have  seen  none  of  it." 

"  It's  too  great  a  conception  to  be  hastily  set  forth.  Give 
me  time.  I'll  lay  a  guinea  that  Oswald  goes  to  the  hospital 
before  this  day  week.  Let  us  see.  This  is  the  14th ;  before 
the  20th — "  and  Barney  gave  the  barrel  of  his  gun,  near  him, 
a  furtive  wipe  with  his  coat-sleeve. 

"  Barney,  if  you'll  do  that,  I'll  gather  every  four-leaved 
clover  between  here  and  Richmond  to  give  you ;  and,  what's 
more,  if  I  die  I'll  leave  you  my  bones  to  operate." 

"  Ah,  Nick,  dear,  I'd  rather  have  your  little. finger  living 
than  all  the  possessions  of  your  father's  bank.  If  you  were 
dead — "  And  honest  Barney  seized  the  poet's  hand  senti- 
mentally. 

"  Come,  come,  fellows,  what  sort  of  soldiering  do  you  call 
this  ?  You  remind  me  of  two  school-girls,"  Jack  remon- 
strated, as  in  duty  bound  to  keep  up  the  warrior  spirit. 

"  Yer  acquaintances  among  females  being  chiefly  of  the 
silly  sort,  it's  no  wonder  we  remind  you  of  the  only  things 
you  can  look  back  on  without  blushing,"  Barney  retorted ; 
and  a  neighbor  poking  his  head  in  the  door  to  learn  the 
cause  of  the  hilarity,  the  conspirators  sallied  out  for  a  jaunt 
until  parade-time.  Now,  what  means  Barney  employed,  or 
whether  he  had  any  handiwork  in  what  befell,  it  does  not 


THE  STEP  THAT  COSTS.  59 

fall  to  me  to  say,  but  this  is  what  happened:  A  market 
hawker  came  into  camp  the  next  morning  and  went  straight 
to  the  big  marquee  tent  where  Colonel  Oswald  stood,  in  all 
the  bravery  of  a  new  broadcloth  uniform  with  spreading 
eagles  on  the  shoulders.  The  savory  fumes  of  hot  sauer- 
kraut aroused  the  warrior  from  his  reveries,  and  he  asked, 
in  vociferous  delight: 

"Was  haben  sie  ?  Kohlen,  nicht  wahr — sauerkraut — 
das  is  aber  schon  ?  " 

"Yes,  mein  golonel,  I  hof  cabbage  und  sauerkraut  und1' 
— looking  about  circumspectly — "  etwas  schnapps  aus  Ant- 
werpen  gebracht  f " 

The  "  golonel's "  eyes  glistened  and  he  made  a  motion 
for  the  vender  to  go  to  the  rear  of  the  marquee.  Passing 
through  from  the  front,  he  met  him  at  the  rear,  and  the  bar- 
gain was  hastily  concluded,  Marsh  secreting  three  portly 
bottles  in  his  chest,  and  turning  the  edibles  over  to  Hussey 
to  store  in  the  larder.  There  had  been  a  good  deal  of  uneasi- 
ness in  camp  over  rumors  of  cholera,  yellow  fever,  and  other 
dismal  epidemics.  When,  therefore,  the  evening  after  the 
colonel's  purchase  the  regimental  surgeon  was  summoned 
in  alarm,  it  was  instantly  believed  in  the  regiment  that "  Old 
Sauerkraut "  was  stricken  with  cholera.  He  at  first  suffered 
hideous  pains  in  the  stomachic  regions.  This  was  followed 
by  a  raging  thirst,  and,  unknown  to  the  physician,  the  three 
bottles  of  schnapps  were  quite  emptied.  On  the  fourth  day 
the  poor  man,  very  woe-begone,  but  now  suffering  no  pain, 
was  carried  to  'the  hospital,  and  the  next  day,  as  the  cam- 
paign was  about  to  begin,  he  was  sent  North,  to  leave  room 
near  the  field  for  those  who  should  be  wounded  in  the  com- 
ing engagement. 

Company  K  was  drilling  on  the  wide  plateau  between 
the  camp  and  the  highway  when  the  ambulance  bearing  the 
afflicted  officer  came  slowly  over  the  road  worn  through  the 
greensward.  Hussey  sat  solemnly  on  the  seat  with  the 
driver,  and  as  the  vehicle  reached  the  company,  standing  at 
rest,  Barney  Moore  in  the  rear  rank  spoke  up: 

"  Tim,  is  the  poor  colonel  no  better  ? " 


60  THE   IRON   GAME. 

"  Divil  a  betther ;  it's  worse  he's  intirely.  God  be  good 
till  'im ! " 

Neither  Jack  nor  Nick  Marsh  dared  trust  himself  to 
meet  the  other's  eyes  as  the  helpless  chief  disappeared  down 
the  hillside,  while  Barney  entered  into  an  exhaustive  treatise 
on  the  symptoms  of  cholera  and  the  liability  of  the  most 
robust  to  meet  sudden  disaster  in  this  malarious  upland,  cir- 
cumvallated  by  ages  of  decaying  matter  in  the  damp  swamps 
on  every  hand.  But  when,  an  hour  later,  Company  K's 
whole  street  was  aroused  by  peal  on  peal  of  Abderian  laugh- 
ter, Jack  and  Nick  were  found  helpless  in  their  bunks,  and 
Barney  was  engaged  in  presenting  a  potion  to  settle  their 
collapsed  nerves  ! 

"  Well,  haven't  I  won  the  guinea,  now  ?  It  cost  me  just 
twice  that.  If  ye's  have  a  spark  of  honor  ye'll  pay  your  just 
dues,  so  ye  will,"  Barney  said,  in  the  evening,  returning  from 
parade,  where  Lieutenant-Colonel  Grandison  officiated  as 
commander,  to  the  unconcealed  delight  of  all  but  the  Oswald 
parasites  among  the  officers. 

"Don't  say  a  word,  Barney — to  whom  the  medicos  of 
mythology  and  all  the  wizards  of  antique  story  are  clowns 
and  mountebanks— you  shall  have  the  guinea  or  its  equiva- 
lent." 

"  Twenty -one  shillings  gold,  bear  in  mind.  Yer  father's 
a  banker,  ye  ought  to  know  that ! " 

"  I  do.  You  shall  have  the  twenty -one  shillings  in  the 
shinplasters  of  the  republic." 

The  colonel  had  been  routed  none  too  soon.  The  very 
next  morning,  when  the  Caribees  "  fell  in  "  for  roll-call,  the 
orderly  received  a  paper  from  the  commander's  orderly 
which  read,  "  Tents  to  be  struck  at  twelve  o'clock  and  the 
men  ready  to  march,  with  ten  days'  rations." 

At  last !  All  the  future,  glowing  with  heroism,  exciting 
with  the  march,  the  attack,  the  battle — ah  !  what  after  ? 
With  something  of  joy  and  regret  the  comely  tents,  that 
had  given  them  home  and  harbor,  were  taken  down,  folded 
in  precise  line,  and  carried  away  for  storage — for  in  the 
field  the  ranks  were  to  bivouac  in  the  open  air.  Such  gay- 


THE   STEP   THAT   COSTS.  61 

ety  ;  such  jokes  ;  such,  bravado  ;  and  augury  of  the  to  be  ! 
And  the  rumors  !  Telephones,  had  they  been  invented; 
stenographers,  had  they  been  present  in  legion,  could  not 
have  kept  track  of  the  momentous  tales  that  were  instantly 
bruited  about.  General  Scott  was  going  to  lead  the  army  in 
person.  His  charger  had  been  seen  before  the  headquarters. 
The  rebels  were  going  to  be  swooped  up  by  another  such 
famous  dash  as  the  flank  march  from  Vera  Cruz  to  the  pla- 
teau of  Mexico  !  Then  came  a  numbing  fear  that  Beaure- 
gard's  bragging  host  had  fled,  and  that  the  movement  would 
turn  out  a  tedious  stern  chase  to  Richmond.  In  the  agony 
of  all  this  Jack,  returning  from  a  '"  detail "  to  the  quartermas- 
ter's tent,  heard  his  name  shouted  where  his  tent  had  been. 
He  hurried  to  the  spot  and  Nick  saluted  him  with  the  cry — 

"  Here,  Jack,  are  two  recruits  who  declare  they  must  enter 
Company  K." 

His  gun  was  on  his  arm  and  his  knapsack  on  his  back, 
but  only  the  realization  that  a  score  of  eyes  were  upon  him 
saved  Jack  from  dropping  limply  on  the  ground,  as,  looking 
in  the  group,  he  saw  Dick  Perley  and  Tom  Twigg  grinning 
ingratiatingly  at  him. 

"  Where— how  in  the  name  of  all  that's  sacred  did  you 
get  here  ? "  he  gasped. 

"  Why,  we  enlisted  for  drummers  in  the  Caribees,  but  the 
recruiting  officer  told  us  as  we  were  eighteen  we  could  carry 
muskets  if  we  wanted  to.  We  do  want  to,  and  we're  going 
to  come  into  Company  K." 

They  looked  him  confidently  in  the  face  as  Dick  repeated 
this  evidently  long-practiced  explanation.  It  would  not  do 
to  take  them  to  task  before  the  company.  Jack  waited  until 
the  rest  were  scattered,  and  then,  leading  the  boys  aside,  said, 
sternly : 

"  Don't  you  know  you  can  be  put  in  prison  for  this  ? 
You  have  run  away  from  your  parents  and  guardians.  No 
one  had  a  lawful  right  to  enlist  you.  I  shall  send  for 
the  provost  marshal  and  have  you  put  in  prison  until 
your  parents  can  come  and  get  your  enlistment  an- 
nulled." 


G2  THE   IRON  GAME. 

Appalled  by  Jack's  stern  manner  as  much  as  by  his 
words,  the  two  lads  began  to  whimper  and  expostulate  tear- 
fully. They  had  trusted  to  his  ancient  friendship.  They 
could  have  gone  into  any  other  regiment,  but  they  had  en- 
listed to  be  with  him.  Whatever  happened,  they  were  sol- 
diers, and,  if  Tom  Twigg  wasn't  eighteen  until  September,  it 
was  perfectly  lawful  for  him  to  enlist  as  a  drummer.  Per- 
ley  was  eighteen  in  April  last,  and  he  was  a  soldier  in  spite 
of  all  that  Jack  could  do.  Jack  was  deeply  perplexed.  What 
could  be  done  ?  If  he  attempted  to  put  the  machinery  of 
reclamation  in  order,  the  boys  would  be  subjected  to  all  sorts 
of  vicissitudes,  prisons,  everything  distressing  and  demoral- 
izing to  tender  youth. 

"  Do  they  know  at  home  what  you  have  done  ? "  Jack 
asked,  doubtingly. 

"  Yes,"  Dick  said,  noting  with  boyish  quickness  the  inde  • 
cision  in  Jack's  troubled  face.  lil  sent  a  letter  to  Aunt 
Pliny,  from  New  York,  telling  her  we  were  soldiers,  and 
that  we  were  happy  and  well." 

"  You  impudent  young  scamp — to  write  that  to  your  best 
friend !  Don't  you  know  it  will  kill  her  ? " 

Dick  had  no  answer  for  this,  and  looked  perplexedly  at 
Tom,  who  was  lost  in  admiration  of  a  neighboring  group 
engaged  in  athletic  exercises.  He  felt  rather  than  heard  the 
question  put  by  the  Mentor,  and  observing  Dick's  discomfi- 
ture, stammered : 

"  It  didn't  kill  your  mother  when  you  went  for  a  soldier, 


The  astute  young  rascal  had  hit  upon  the  weak  place,  and 
Jack  stood  in  anxious  doubt  wondering  what  to  do.  An  aide 
that  he  recognized  from  division  headquarters  rode  past 
at  the  moment  and  Jack  turned  to  watch  him.  He  leaped 
from  his  horse  at  the  colonel's  tent.  Jack  again  looked  at 
the  boys.  They  were  lost  in  delight  at  the  scene  and  oblivi- 
ous of  the  debate  going  on  in  their  guardian's  mind. 

"Stay  here  till  I  come  back,"  he  said,  authoritatively,  and 
strode  off  to  Grandison's  tent.  As  he  reached  it  the  major, 
McGoyle,  was  entering,  and  Jack  waited  until  that  officer 


THE  STEP  THAT  COSTS.  63 

should  come  out.  He  came  presently,  and  Colonel  Grandi- 
son  with  him.  Jack  saluted,  and  stated  his  dilemma  to  the 
commander,  who  listened  with  amused  interest. 

"  I  don't  see  that  anything  can  be  done  now,  Jack.  I'm 
just  about  leaving  the  regiment.  I  have  been  assigned  to 
General  Tyler's  staff  during  the  campaign.  McGoyle  takes 
command  of  the  regiment.  He  will  need  orderlies,  and  the 
boys  can  serve  with  him  until  we  can  get  time  to  look  into 
the  business.  I  will  settle  the  matter  with  him,  and  if  you 
will  write  a  telegram  to  the  lad's  family  I  will  have  it  sent 
as  I  go  to  headquarters." 

Jack's  relief  and  gratitude  were  best  seen  in  the  brighten- 
ing eye  and  the  more  buoyant  movement  that  succeeded  the 
heaviness  and  agitation  of  his  first  impression.  The  boys' 
coming  would  weigh  upon  him  every  minute  until  he  was 
in  some  sort  relieved  of  even  passive  complicity.  He  would 
feel  that  the  kind-hearted  "  Pearls,"  as  the  aunts  were  often 
called,  would  look  upon  him  as  having  led  the  truants  into 
the  army.  But  Grandison's  interposition  had  shifted  from 
him  a  weighty  anxiety.  The  boys  would  not  be  left  friend- 
less and  irresponsible  in  the  turbulent  streets  of  Washing- 
ton. Nor  would  they,  as  orderlies,  be  in  continuous  or  in- 
extricable danger  in  battle — for  whereas  the  soldier  in  the 
line  must  keep  in  ranks  even  when  not  in  actual  battle,  with 
the  enemy's  missiles  as  destructive  as  in  the  charge  or  com- 
bat, the  orderlies  may  take  advantage  of  the  inequalities  of 
ground  and  natural  objects.  Jack  explained  something  of 
this  to  the  young  Marlboroughs,  and  was  fairly  irritated  at 
the  crest-fallen  look  that  came  into  their  eager,  shining  faces 
when  they  comprehended  that  they  were  not  to  be  with  their 
hero. 

"  But  you  couldn't  be  in  the  company  in  any  event.  You 
look  more  like  rebels  than  soldiers,  with  your  gray  jackets 
and  trousers  " — for  the  boys  still  wore  their  Acredale  uni- 
form, an  imitation  of  the  West  Point  cadet's  costume.  "  We 
shall  be  on  the  march  in  a  few  minutes,  and  there  is  only 
one  of  two  things  to  be  done.  Pvemain  here  in  the  '  unas- 
signed '  camp,  where  you  may  be  transferred  into  any  regi- 
5 


64  THE   IRON   GAME. 

ment  in  the  service  that  needs  recruits;  or  go,  as  Colonel 
Grandison  has  very  kindly  consented  to  have  you,  as  order- 
lies or  clerks." 

The  very  possibility  of  being  sent  into  some  unknown 
regiment  was  a  terror  so  great  that  the  other  alternative  be- 
came less  odious  to  the  boys,  and  they  trotted  after  Jack,  as 
he  stalked  moody  and  distracted  to  Major  Mike  McGoyle's 
tent,  now  the  only  habitable  spot  left  where  a  few  hours  be- 
fore a  symmetrical  little  city  had  stood. 

"And  so  ye  want  to  be  solgers,  me  foine  b'yes  ?  Well, 
well,  'tis  fitter  for  yer  mothers'  knees  ye  are,  with  yer  rosy 
cheeks  and  curling  locks.  It's  a  poor  place  here  for  yer 
bright  oies  and  soft  hands,  me  lads ;  but  I'm  not  the  wan  to 
throw  the  dish  after  th'  milk  when  it's  spilt !  " 

He  stroked  the  bared  heads  of  the  blushing  lads,  and,  turn- 
ing to  their  unhappy  sponsor,  he  added  with  official  brevity : 
"  I  will  put  Twiggs's  son  at  me  papers  in  the  adjutant's  office. 
Young  Pearley  can  remain  with  your  company  until  I  make 
out  a  detail  for  him." 

It  was  impossible  for  Jack  to  sustain  the  role  of  frowning 
displeasure  as  Dick  skipped  back  with  him  to  the  company. 
He  remembered  his  own  delight  three  months  before,  even 
with  the  haunting  thoughts  of  his  mother's  reproaches  to 
dampen  his  ardor,  and  he  was  soon  dazzling  the  neophyte 
with  the  wonders  that  were  just  about  to  begin. 

It  was  the  afternoon  of  the  16th  of  July,  and  the  hill- 
sides, which  the  day  before  were  covered  with  tents  as  far 
as  the  eye,  could  see  on  every  hand,  were  now  blue  with 
masses  of  men,  while  other  masses  had  been  passing  on  the 
red  highways  since  early  morning,  taking  the  direction  of 
the  Potomac  bridges. 


AN  ARMY  WITH  BANNERS.  65 

CHAPTER  VIII. 

AN  ARMY  WITH   BANNERS. 

IT  has  always  seemed  to  me  that  the  life,  the  routine,  the 
many  small  haps  in  the  daily  function  of  a  soldier,  which  in 
sum  made  up  to  him  all  that  there  was  in  the  devoir  of  death, 
ought  to  be  read  with  interest  by  the  millions  whose  kin 
were  part  of  the  civil  war,  as  well  as  by  those  who  knew  of 
it  only  as  we  know  Napoleon's  wars  or  Washington's.  For 
my  part,  I  would  find  a  livelier  pleasure  in  the  diary  of  a 
common  soldier,  in  any  of  the  great  wars,  than  I  do  in  the 
confusing  pamphlets,  bound  in  volumes  called  history.  I 
like  to  read  of  war  as  our  Uncle  Toby  related  it.  I  like  to 
know  what  two  observing  eyes  saw  and  the  feelings  that 
sometimes  made  the  timidest  heroes — sometimes  cravens. 

For  a  month — yes,  months— the  burden  of  the  press,  the 
prayers  of  the  North,  had  been,  "  On  to  Richmond !  "  Jack, 
through  Colonel  Grandison,  knew  that  General  McDowell 
and  the  commander-in-chief,  the  venerable  soldier  Scott,  had 
pleaded  and  protested  against  a  move  until  the  new  levies 
under  the  three-months'  call  could  be  drilled  and  disciplined. 
But  on  the  Fourth  of  July  Congress  had  assembled,  and  the 
raw  statesmen — with  an  eye  to  future  elections — took  up 
the  public  clamor.  They  gave  the  Cabinet,  the  President,  no 
peace  until  General  Scott  and  McDowell  had  given  way  and 
promised  the  pending  movement. 

"  Our  soldiers  are  so  green  that  I  shall  move  with  fear," 
McDowell  said  to  the  President. 

"  Well,  they  "  (meaning  the  rebels)  "  are  green  too,  and 
one  greenness  will  offset  the  other,"  Lincoln  responded  with 
kindly  malice.  It  was  useless  to  argue  further  ;  useless  to 
point  out  that  the  rebels  were  not  so  "  green,"  for  the  young 
men  of  che  semi  -  aristocratic  society  of  the  South  were 
trained  to  arms,  whereas  it  was  a  mark  of  lawlessness  and 
vulgarity  to  carry  arms  in  the  Puritan  ranks  of  the  North. 
Something  of  the  unreadiness  of  the  army,  every  reflecting 
soldier  in  the  ranks  comprehended,  when  he  saw  within 


66  THE   IRON   GAME. 

the  precincts  of  his  own  brigades  the  hap-hazard  conduct 
of  the  quartermaster's  and  staff  departments.  Some  regi- 
ments had  raw  flour  dealt  them  for  rations  and  no  bake- 
ovens  to  turn  it  into  bread  ;  some  regiments  had  abundance 
of  bread,  but  no  coffee  or  meat  rations.  As  to  vegetables — 
beans,  or  anything  of  the  sort — if  the  pockets  of  the  soldiers 
had  not  been  well  supplied  from  home,  the  army  that  set  out 
for  Manassas  would  have  been  eaten  with  scurvy  and  the 
skin  diseases  that  come  from  unseasoned  food. 

Now,  at  the  very  moment  the  legions  were  stripped  for 
the  march,  many  of  them  were  without  proper  ammunition. 
Various  arms  were  in  use,  and  the  same  cartridge  did  not  fit 
them  all.  Eager  groups  could  be  seen  all  through  the  brigades 
filing  down  the  leaden  end  of  the  cartridge  to  make  their 
weapons  effective,  until  a  proper  supply  could  be  obtained. 
This  was  promised  at  Fairfax  Station,  or  Centreville,  where 
the  army's  supplies  were  to  be  sent.  So,  in  spite  of  the  high 
hopes  and  feverish  unrest  for  the  forward  movement,  there 
was  a  good  deal  of  sober  foreboding  among  the  men,  who 
held  to  the  American  right  to  criticise  as  the  Briton  main- 
tains his  right  to  grumble.  For  the  soldier  in  camp  or  on 
the  march  is  as  garrulous  as  a  tea  gossip,  and  no  problem  in 
war  or  statecraft  is  too  complex  or  sacred  for  him  to  attempt 
the  solution.  Of  the  thirty  thousand  men  leaving  the  banks 
of  the  Potomac  that  16th  of  July  there  were,  at  a  low  esti- 
mate, ten  thousand  who  believed  themselves  as  fitted  to 
command  as  the  chieftains  who  led  them. 

By  two  o'clock  the  Caribees  were  in  the  line  that  had 
been  passing  city- ward  since  daylight.  .  The  sun  had  baked 
the  sticky  clay  into  brick-like  hardness,  and  the  hours  of 
trampling,  the  tread  of  heavy  teams,  and  the  still  heavier  ar- 
tillery, had  filled  the  air  with  an  opaque  atmosphere  of  red- 
dish powder,  through  which  the  masses  passed  in  almost 
spectral  vagueness.  The  city  crowds,  usually  alert,  when 
great  masses  of  men  moved,  were  discouraged  by  heat  and 
dust,  and  the  streets  were  quite  given  over  to  the  military. 
Eager  as  Jack  and  his  friends  were  to  note  the  impression 
the  march  made  upon  the  civilians,  most  of  whom  were 


AN  ARMY  WITH  BANNERS.  67 

thought  to  be  secretly  in  sympathy  with  the  rebellion,  it  was 
impossible  to  even  catch  sight  of  any  but  soldiers.  Pennsyl- 
vania Avenue,  when  they  reached  it,  was  a  billowy  channel  of 
impalpable  powder.  But  at  the  Long  Bridge  the  breeze  from 
the  wide  channel  of  the  river  cleared  the  clouds  of  dust,  and 
the  men,  catching  glimpses  of  each  other,  broke  into  jocose 
banter.  On  the  bridge  they  looked  eagerly  down  the  river, 
where  the  low  roofs  of  Alexandria  were  visible,  and  upward 
on  the  Virginia  shore  where  the  gleaming  walls  of  Arling- 
ton recalled  to  Jack  far  different  times  and  scenes. 

"  Now  we're  in  Jeff  Davis's  land,"  Barney  called  out  from 
one  of  the  rear  files,  as  the  company  reached  midway  in  the 
bridge. 

"  Not  by  a  long  shot,"  Nick  Marsh  cried.  "  Davis's  land 
begins  and  ends  within  cannon-shot  of  himself.  He  is  like 
the  Duke  of  Saxe-Meiningen — he  has  to  beg  his  neighbor's 
permission  to  hold  battalion  drill." 

u  He  isn't  so  polite  as  the  duke ;  he  takes  it  without  ask- 
ing," Barney  retorts. 

"  But  now  we  are  on  the  '  sacred  soil,' "  Jack  cries,  as  the 
company  debouched  from  the  bridge  up  the  steep,  narrow 
road  that  seemed  to  be  taking  them  to  Arlington.  In  spite 
of  the  burning  heat  and  the  exhaustion  of  the  three  hours' 
march,  the  scene  was,  or  rather  the  imagination  of  the  men, 
invested  each  step  with  a  sort  of  awe.  They  were  at  last  in 
the  enemy's  territory.  It  had  been  held  by  the  Union  forces, 
only  by  dint  of  large  numbers  and  strong  fortifications. 
There  wasn't  a  man  in  the  company  that  didn't  resent  the 
fact,  constantly  obtruding  itself  on  the  ranks  as  they 
marched  eagerly  onward  by  every  knoll,  every  bush  in  the 
landscape,  that  Union  soldiers  had  been  there  before  them ! 
that  their  devouring  eyes  were  not  the  first  to  mark  these 
historic  spots. 

Tired  as  they  were  and  burdensome  as  the  heavy  knap- 
sacks ajid  still  heavier  ammunition  had  become,  they  heard 
an  aide  give  the  order  to  bivouac  with  chagrin !  They  so 
longed  to  put  undebatable  ground  behind  them  and  really 
be  where  the  distant  coppice  might  be  a  curtain  to  the  ene- 


68  THE   IRON   GAME. 

my!  The  Caribees  marked  with  indignant  surprise  that, 
when  they  had  turned  into  a  field  about  seven  o'clock,  the 
long  line  following  them  pushed  onward  until  far  into  the 
night,  and  they  envied  the  contiguity  this  would  give  the 
lucky  laggards  to  first  see  and  engage  the  enemy !  But  they 
turned-to  very  merrily,  in  this  first  night  of  real  soldiering. 
They  were  "  in  the  field."  All  the  parade  part  of  military 
life  was  now  relaxed.  The  hot  little  dress  coats  were  left 
behind ;  there  was  no  display.  Even  guard-mount  was  re- 
duced to  the  simplest  possible  form. 

With  one  impulse  all  the  men— that  is,  all  who  had  been 
alert  enough  to  provide  pen  and  paper — bestowed  themselves 
about  the  candles  allotted  each  group,  and  began  letters 
"  home,"  dated  magniloquently  "  Headquarters  in  the  Field. 
Tyler's  Division,  Sherman's  Brigade,  16th  July,  1861."  The 
imperial  impulse  manifested  itself  in  these  curt  epistles.  I 
can't  resist  giving  Jack's : 

"  DEAR  MOTHER  :  How  I  wish  you  and  Polly  could  see  us 
now !  We  are  really  on  the  march  at  last.  The  battle  can't 
be  far  off.  We  are  not  many  miles  from  the  enemy,  and,  if 
he  stands,  what  glorious  news  you  will  hear  very  soon !  I 
wish  you  could  have  seen  us  to-day.  Colonel  Sherman,  who 
is  the  sternest-looking  man  I  ever  saw,  a  regular  army  offi- 
cer, once  a  professor,  told  the  major — you  know  McGoyle  is 
commanding  us  now — he  is  a  brick — Sherman  told  him  that 
the  Caribees  did  as  good  marching  as  the  regulars,  who  came 
behind  us.  Dear  old  Mick,  with  his  brogue  and  his  blarney, 
has  won  every  heart  in  the  regiment,  and  you  may  be  sure 
we  shall  see  the  whites  of  the  enemy's  eyes  under  him,  which 
we  never  should  have  done  under  that  odious  Hessian,  Os- 
wald— in  hospital  now,  thank  Heaven — though  some  time, 
when  I  tell  you  the  story,  you  will  see  that  in  this,  as  in 
most  other  things,  Heaven  helps  those  who  help  themselves. 
Taps  will  sound  in  five  minutes,  and  I  can  only  add  that  I 
am  in  good  health,  glorious  spirits,  and  unshaken  confidence 
that  we  shall  return  to  Acredale  before  your  longing  to  see 
your  son  overcomes  your  love  of  glory.  We  shall  return 


AN  ARMY   WITII   BANNERS.  69 

victors,  if  not  heroes — at  least  I  know  that  you  and  Polly 
will  believe  this  of  your  affectionate  and  dutiful  son 

"JACK." 

Barney  read  one  or  two  phrases  of  his  composition  to  the 
indulgent  ear  of  Jack  and  the  poet,  over  which  they  laughed 
a  good  deal.  "  We  are,"  he  said,  "  before  the  enemy.  I  feel 
as  our  great  ancestor,  Baron  Moore,  felt  at  Fontenoy  when 
the  Sassenachs  were  over  against  the  French  lines— as  if  all 
the  blood  in  Munster  was  in  my  veins  and  I  wanted  to  spill 
it  on  the  villains  ferninst  us." 

The  poet  declined  to  quote  from  his  epistle,  and  the  three 
friends  sat  in  the  dim  light  until  midnight,  wondering  over 
what  the  morrow  had  in  store.  Dick  Perley  listened  in  awe 
to  Jack's  wonderful  ratiocinations  on  what  was  to  come — se- 
cretly believing  him  much  more  learned  in  war  than  this 
General  McDowell  who  was  commanding  the  army.  The 
first  bugle  sounded  at  three  in  the  morning  in  the  Caribees' 
camp,  and  when  the  coffee  had  "been  hastily  dispatched,  the 
men  began  to  understand  the  cause  of  their  being  shunted 
into  the  field  so  early  the  evening  before  while  the  rear  of 
the  column  marched  ahead  of  them.  The  Caribees  passed  a 
mile  or  more  of  encampments,  the  men  not  yet  aroused,  and 
when  at  daylight  the  whole  body  was  in  motion  they  were 
in  advance,  with  nothing  before  them  but  a  few  hundred 
cavalry. 

A  delirious  expectation,  a  rapturous  sense  of  holding  the 
post  of  danger,  kept  every  sense  in  such  a  thrill  of  anticipa- 
tion that  the  hours  passed  like  minutes.  The  dusty  roads, 
the  intolerable  thirst,  and  the  nauseous,  tepid  water,  the  blis- 
tered feet,  the  abraded  hips,  where  the  cartridge-box  began 
to  wear  the  flesh — all  these  woes  of  the  march  were  ignored 
in  the  one  impulse  to  see  the  ground  ahead,  to  note  the  first 
sight  of  the  enemy.  It  was  not  until  four  o'clock  in  the  aft- 
ernoon that  the  column  was  halted,  and  two  companies,  K 
and  H,  were  marched  out  of  the  column  and  formed  in  pla- 
toons across  the  line  of  march,  that  the  regiment  learned 
with  mortification  that  hitherto  the  route  had  been  inside 


70  THE   IRON   GAME. 

the  Union  lines !  They  soon  saw  the  difference  in  the  tactics 
of  the  march.  The  company  was  spread  out  in  groups  of 
four;  these  again  were  separated  by  a  few  yards,  and  in  this 
order,  sweeping  like  a  drag-net,  they  advanced  over  the  dry 
fields,  through  the  clustering  pines  or  into  cultivated  acres, 
and  through  great  farm-yards. 

Back  of  them  the  long  column  came,  slowly  winding 
over  the  sandy  highway  which  curved  through  the  undu- 
lating land.  Here  and  there  the  skirmishers — for  that  was 
the  office  the  two  companies  were  now  filling — came  upon 
signs  of  picket-posts ;  and  once,  as  Jack  hurried  beyond  his 
group  to  the  thicket,  near  a  wretched  cabin,  a  horse  and  rider 
were  visible  tearing  through  the  foliage  of  a  winding  lane. 
He  drew  up  his  musket  in  prompt  recognition  of  his  duty, 
but  he  saw  with  mortification  that  the  horse  and  rider  con- 
tinued unharmed.  Other  shots  from  the  skirmish-line  fol- 
lowed, but  Jack's  rebel  was  the  only  enemy  seen,  when,  in 
the  early  dusk,  an  orderly  from  the  main  column  brought 
the  command  to  set  pickets  and  bivouac  for  the  night.  Jack 
would  have  written  with  better  grounds  for  his  solemnity 
if  he  had  waited  until  this  evening;  but  now  there  was  no 
chance. 

The  companies  were  the  extreme  advance  of  the  army ; 
nothing  between  them  and  the  enemy  but  detached  pickets 
of  cavalry,  at  long  distances  apart,  to  fly  back  with  the  re- 
port of  the  least  signs  made  by  the  rebels.  These  meager 
groups  were  forbidden  fires,  or  any  evidence  of  their  pres- 
ence that  might  guide  hostile  movement,  and  the  infantry 
outposts  felt  that  they  were  really  the  guardians  of  the  sleep- 
ing thousands  a  mile  or  so  behind  them.  No  one  minded 
the  cold  water  and  hard  bread  which  for  the  first  time 
formed  the  company's  fare  that  night.  Like  the  cavalry, 
fire  was  forbidden  them.  They  formed  little  groups  in  the 
rear  of  the  outer  line  of  pickets,  discussing  with  animation 
— even  levity — the  likelihood  of  an  engagement  the  next 
day.  It  was  the  general  opinion  that  if  Beauregard  meant 
to  fight  he  would  have  made  a  stand  at  some  of  the  excel- 
lent points  of  vantage  that  had  been  encountered  in  the 


AN  ARMY  WITH   BANNERS.  71 

day's  inarch.  Jack  smiled  wisely  over  these  amateur  guesses, 
and  quite  abashed  the  rest  when  he  said : 

"  Beauregard  is  no  fool.  His  army  is  massed  near  the 
point  that  he  is  guarding — Manassas  Junction.  You  seem 
to  think  that  war  is  a  game  of  chance,  armies  fighting  just 
where  they  happen  to  meet  each  other.  Not  at  all.  Our 
business  is  to  march  to  Richmond ;  Beauregard's  business  is 
to  prevent  us.  To  do  this  he  must,  first  of  all,  keep  his  lines 
of  supply  safe.  An  army  without  that  is  like  a  ship  at  sea 
without  food— the  more  of  a  crew,  the  worse  the  situation. 
•  Of  course,  Beauregard  had  his  skirmishers  spread  out  in 
front  of  us,  but,  as  there  is  no  use  in  killing  until  some  end 
is  to  be  gained,  they  have  got  out  of  our  way.  If  the  spies 
that  are  in  our  ranks  should  send  information  that  promised 
to  give  the  rebels  a  chance  to  get  at  a  big  body  of  our  men, 
before  the  whole  army  came  up,  you'd  see  a  change  of  things 
very  quick.  We've  got  fifty  thousand  men,  or  thereabout" 
(Jack  was  wrong ;  there  were  but  thirty  thousand).  "Now, 
these  men  are  stretched  back  of  us  to  Washington,  fifteen 
miles  or  more,  because  the  artillery  must  be  guarded,  and  in- 
fantry only  can  do  that.  Now,  suppose  Beauregard  finds  that 
there  is  a  gap  somewhere  between  the  forces  stretching  back, 
and  he  happens  to  have  ten  or  fifteen  thousand  men  handy  ? 
Why,  he  just  swoops  down  upon  us,  and,  if  we  can't  defend 
ourselves  until  the  rest  of  the  army  comes  up,  he  has  won 
what  is  called  a  tactical  victory,  and  endangered  our  strategy." 

"  Goodness,  Jack,  you  ought  to  have  been  commander-in- 
chief !  You  talk  war  like  a  book ! "  Barney  cried,  in  mock 
admiration. 

The  war-talk  went  on  late  into  the  night,  for  the  com- 
pany, detached  from  camp,  was  not  obliged  to  follow  the 
signals  of  the  bugles  that  came  in  melodious  echoes  over  the 
fragrant  fields.  It  was  a  thrilling  sight  as  the  lone  watch- 
ers peered  backward.  The  June  fields  for  miles  were  dotted 
with  blazing  spires,  as  if  the  earth  had  opened  to  pour  out 
columns  of  flame,  guiding  the  wanderers  on  their  trying 
way.  The  sleep  of  the  night  was  desultory  and  fitful,  ex- 
citement stimulating  everybody  to  wakefulness. 


72  THE  IRON   GAME. 

CHAPTER  IX. 
"THE  ASSYRIAN  CAME  DOWN  LIKE  THE  WOLF  ON  THE  FOLD." 

THE  next  morning  the  march  was  resumed  by  daylight, 
the  two  companies  remaining  on  the  skirmish-line.  The 
country  gradually  became  more  rugged  as  the  route  brought 
them  near  Centreville.  There  were  no  hills— a  bare  but  not 
bleak  champaign,  mostly  without  houses  or  farms,  as  the 
North  knows  them.  Sluggish  brooks  became  more  frequent, 
but  none  that  were  not  easily  fordable.  There  were  no 
landmarks  to  hold  the  mind  to  the  scene,  nor,  in  case  of  bat- 
tle, give  the  strategists  points  of  vantage  for  the  iron  game. 
About  noon,  the  detached  groups  stalking  a  little  negli- 
gently now  over  the  tedious  plains,  were  startled  by  the  un- 
expected. 

On  the  green  slope  of  a  hill,  a  mile  or  more  ahead,  a  score 
of  little  puffs  of  white  smoke  were  seen,  then  a  sharp  report, 
and,  in  some  places  near  by,  the  ground  was  broken  as  if  by  a 
thrust  of  a  spear,  and  little  scraps  of  clay  scattered  over  the 
greensward.  Then  the  bugle  sounded  a  halt.  A  few  minutes 
later  the  horsemen  spread  in  a  chain  across  the  line  of  march, 
rode  swiftly  to  a  common  center,  formed  in  a  solid  group, 
turned  to  the  rear  and  rode  back  of  the  skirmishers  to  the 
main  body.  Company  K  watched  them  as  they  galloped 
back,  and  as  they  reached  the  group  at  the  head  of  the  long 
line,  a  half-mile  or  so  distant,  a  body  of  men  hastened  for- 
ward laden  with  stretchers  and  hospital  appliances.  Ah  !  at 
last !  It  is  now  real  war.  The  bugle  sounds  Forward  !  and 
with  an  elastic  spring  the  groups  of  four  push  daimtlessly 
ahead.  Their  eyes  are  fixed  on  the  brow  of  the  hill,  sepa- 
rated from  them  by  a  narrow  depression. 

The  whole  line— perhaps  three  miles  wide— but,  of  course, 
not  at  all  regular,  conforming  largely  to  the  difficulties  en- 
countered, moves  down  the  sloping  bank  on  a  run.  Before 
they  reach  the  bottom  they  are  an  excellent  target,  and  for 
the  first  time  that  most  blood-curdling  of  sounds — the  half- 
singing,  half-hissing  z-z-z-ip  of  the  minie-ball — numbs  the 


"THE  ASSYRIAN  CAME  DOWN  LIKE  THE   WOLF."      73 

ardor  of  the  bravest.  It  is  such  a  malignant,  direct,  devilish 
admonition  of  murder ;  it  comes  so  unexpectedly,  no  matter 
how  well  you  are  prepared,  that  Achilles  himself  would  feel 
a  spasm  of  fear.  And  when  it  strikes  it  does  its  work  with 
such  a  venomous,  exultant  splutter,  that  there  seems  some- 
thing animate,  demoniac  in  it.  The  volley,  as  I  said,  came 
as  the  men  were  hurried  down  the  hill  by  their  own  momen- 
tum and  by  the  sharp  fall  in  the  ground.  The  balls  passed 
too  high  or  too  low,  but  they  impressed  the  fact  on  enthusi- 
asts, who  had  longed  for  battle,  that  one  might  die  for  one's 
country  and  not  die  gloriously.  It  seemed  such  an  ignoble, 
such  a  dastardly,  outrageous  thing,  that  death  could  come  to 
them  from  unseen  hands,  for  as  yet  they  had  not  seen  a  soul. 
But  now  they  are  at  the  foot  of  the  hill— though  it  is  not 
correct  to  so  call  it,  for  it  was  a  long,  winding  valley,  through 
which  ran  a  dancing  streamlet,  very  welcome  to  the  thirsty 
warriors  when  they  had  succeeded  in  breaking  through  the 
vicious  natural  chevaux  de  frise  of  blackberry-briers  and 
nettles.  But  now  there  wasn't  much  time  to  slake  thirst. 
The  bullets  had  begun  to  come  regularly ;  and  suddenly,  as 
Jack  conducted  his  squad  across  the  stream,  he  was  startled 
by  the  exclamation,  uttered  rather  in  reverence,  it  seemed  to 
him,  than  surprise  or  pain : 

"  My  God,  I'm  hit ! " 

Yes,  a  fair-haired  lad — one  of  his  class — tottered  a  second 
in  a  limp,  helpless  way,  and  fell  headlong,  pitching  into  the 
little  stream.  Jack  ran  and  lifted  him  out;  but  even  before 
the  hospital  corps  came  the  boy  was  dead.  The  bullet  had 
gone  quite  through  his  heart. 

However,  now  the  first  numbing  terror  of  the  bullet  was 
changed  to  a  sort  of  revengeful  delight.  Relinquishing  any 
return  fire  for  a  moment,  the  company,  with  a  great  shout, 
that  sounded  all  along  its  front,  dashed  up  the  hill,  through 
the  scrub-oak  at  the  brow,  and  then  they  could  see  the  enemy 
slowly  retiring,  a  chain  of  them  a  mile  or  more  wide.  While 
one  of  the  rebel  ranks  fired  the  other  knelt,  or  lay  flat  upon  the 
ground  loading,  where  there  were  no  natural  obstacles  to  take 
shelter  behind.  A  vengeful  shout  ran  along  the  Union  lines. 


74  THE   IRON   GAME. 

"  Capture  them — don't  fire  ! "  and  with  one  impulse  the 
groups  fled  forward  so  swiftly  that  the  enemy,  believing  the 
rush  only  momentary,  delayed  too  long,  and  in  two  minutes 
the  Union  line  was  pell-mell  among  them. 

"  Surrender  ! "  Jack  shouted  to  the  squad  just  ahead  of 
him — "  surrender,  or  we'll  blow  your  heads  off  ! "  and  along 
the  line  for  some  distance  to  his  left  and  right  he  could  hear 
his  own  exultant  demand  echoed.  There  was  nothing  to  do 
for  the  rebels,  who  had  neglected  to  keep  their  enemies  at 
the  proper  distance,  but  throw  up  their  hands.  Jack's  squad 
sent  back  twenty-three  prisoners  to  Major  Mike,  who  took 
them  in  proud  triumph  to  General  Tyler,  riding  with  the 
head  of  the  column,  now  that  the  tenacity  of  the  rebel  skir- 
mishers made  it  seem  probable  that  there  would  be  serious 
work.  But  though  the  firing  kept  up  as  the  Union  forces 
advanced,  no  obstacle  more  serious  than  the  thin  lines  of 
the  skirmishers  revealed  itself. 

At  dusk  the  bugles,  moving  with  the  captains  in  the  rear, 
sounded  the  rally,  and  then  the  scattered  groups  came  to- 
gether in  company.  They  were  to  bivouac  on  the  spot  to 
await  their  regiment  when  it  arrived.  Meanwhile,  to  the 
bitter  discontent  of  the  Caribee  companies,  their  post  of 
honor  was  taken  by  new  troops,  and  they  knew  that  next 
day  they  would  march  in  line.  They  had  so  enjoyed  the 
glory  of  the  first  volleys,  the  first  deaths,  and  the  first  pris- 
soners,  that,  not  remembering  military  procedure,  they  re- 
sented the  change  as  an  aspersion  upon  their  valor. 

When  the  regiment  came  up,  however,  they  forgot  their 
mortification  in  the  eager  questioning  and  envious  joculari- 
ties of  the  rest.  Companies  K  and  H  were  so  beset  that 
they  forgot  to  boil  their  coffee,  and  would  have  gone  thirsty 
to  their  dewy  beds,  if  the  other  companies'  cooks  had  not 
shared  their  rations  with  the  gossiping  heroes.  As  darkness 
fell,  the  sky  was  reddened  for  miles  with  pillars  of  fire,  and 
for  a  time  the  Caribees  thought  it  was  the  enemy.  But  Tom 
Twigg,  who  had  been  with  the  major  at  headquarters,  ex- 
plained to  Jack  that  the  army  was  divided  into  three  bodies 
of  about  ten  thousand  men  each,  and  'that  Tyler's  column, 


"THE  ASSYRIAN   CAME  DOWN  LIKE  THE  WOLF."     75 

of  which  the  Caribees  were  the  advance,  were  the  extreme 
northern  body ;  that  they  were  now  at  Vienna,  far  north  of 
Manassas,  where  Schenck  had  been  beset  a  month  before  in 
his  never-enough-ridiculed  reconnaissance  by  train ;  that  in 
the  morning  they  were  to  push  on  to  Fairfax  Court-House 
and  thence  to  Centreville,  where  the  army  was  to  come  to- 
gether for  the  blow  at  the  rebels.  Jack  and  his  friends  were 
a  good  deal  chagrined  to  learn  that  they  were  not  as  near 
the  enemy  as  the  column  to  the  south  of  them,  whose  fires 
had  been  mistaken  for  Beauregard's.  Though  the  levee 
came  to  an  end  at  "  taps,"  no  one  felt  sleepy,  and  the  excite- 
ment banished  the  pains  of  fatigue.  Major  Mike,  saunter- 
ing through  the  dark  lines  near  midnight,  heard  the  tale 
still  going  on  in  drowsy  monotone,  but,  good-naturedly,  made 
no  sign. 

Though  not  given  the  skirmish-line  next  day — the  17th — 
Jack  was  delighted  to  find  that  the  Caribees  led  all  the  rest. 
With  them  rode  the  commander  of  the  brigade,  Colonel 
Sherman,  whom  the  soldiers  thought  a  very  crabbed  and 
"  grumpy  "  sort  of  a  fellow.  His  red  hair  bristled  straight 
up  and  out  when  he  took  his  slouch  hat  off,  as  he  did  very 
often,  for  the  heat  was  intolerable.  His  eyes  had  a  merry 
twinkle,  however,  that  won  the  hearts  of  the  lads  as  he  rode 
by,  scrupulously  striking  into  the  fields  to  save  the  panting 
and  heavily  laden  line  every  extra  step  he  could.  Often,  in 
after-days— when  Sherman  had  become  the  Turenne  of  the 
armies — Jack,  who  was  often  heard  to  brag  of  his  gift  of 
detecting  greatness,  used  to  turn  very  red  in  the  face  when 
he  was  reminded  of  a  saying  of  his  on  that  hot  July  day: 

"  That  chap  is  too  lean  and  hungry  to  have  much  stomach 
for  a  fight ;  he  looks  better  fitted  for  wielding  the  ferule  than 
the  sword.  Schoolmaster  is  written  in  every  line  of  his  face 
and  stamped  in  his  pedagogue  manner." 

The  march  that  day  was  south  by  a  little  west,  and  about 
nine  o'clock  a  cool  morning  breeze  lifted  the  clouds  of  dust 
far  enough  above  the  horizon  to  reveal  the  distant  blue  of  the 
mountains.  The  whole  line  seemed  to  come  to  a  pause  in 
the  enchanting,  mirage-like  spectacle.  "  The  Shenandoah," 


Y6  THE   IRON   GAME. 

Jack  said,  mopping  the  dust,  or  rather  the  thin  coating  of 
mud,  from  his  face  and  brow,  for  the  perspiration,  oozing  at 
every  pore,  naturally  covered  the  exposed  skin  with  an  unpre- 
meditated cosmetic.  The  march  to  Fairfax  Court-House,  for 
which  judicial  temple  the  curious  soldier  looked  in  vain,  was 
but  eight  miles  from  the  point  of  departure  in  the  morn- 
ing, but  it  was  two  o'clock  in  the  afternoon  when  the  Cari- 
bees  passed  the  hamlet,  turning  sharply  to  the  right.  They 
marched  up  the  deep  cut  of  projected  railway,  where,  for  a 
time,  they  were  shaded  from  the  sun  by  the  high  banks. 
But,  emerging  presently  on  the  Warrenton  pike,  they  saw 
evidences  that  other  columns— whether  friends  or  foes  they 
couldn't  tell— had  recently  preceded  them.  Scores  of  the 
raw  and  overworked  were  breaking  down  now  every  hour. 

The  dust  and  heat  were  insupportable.  Whenever  the 
march  came  near  water,  all  thought  of  discipline  was  for- 
gotten, and  the  panting,  miner-like  hosts  broke  for  the  in- 
viting stream.  The  officers  were  powerless  to  enforce  dis- 
cipline ;  when  these  breaks  happened  the  column  was  forced 
to  come  to  a  halt  until  every  man  had  filled  his  canteen — 
and  here  is  one,  among  the  many  trivial  causes,  that  brought 
about  the  reverses  of  McDowell's  masterly  campaign.  A 
march  that  ought  to  have  been  made  in  twenty-four  hours, 
or  thirty  at  the  utmost,  took  more  than  three  days  !  One  of 
those  days  saved  to  the  army  would  have  enabled  McDowell 
to  finish  Beauregard  before  the  ten  thousand  re-enforcements 
from  the  Shenandoah  came  upon  his  flank  at  Bull  Run.  But 
we  shall  see  that  in  proper  time,  for  there  is  nothing  more 
dramatically  timely,  or  untimely,  than  this  incident  in  the 
history  of  battles,  unless  it  be  Bliicher's  miraculous  appear- 
ance at  Waterloo,  when  Napoleon  supposed  that  Grouchy 
was  pummeling  him  twenty  miles  away. 

There  was  no  provost  guard  to  spur  on  the  stragglers ;  and 
when,  late  in  the  afternoon,  the  way-worn  columns  spread 
themselves  on  the  western  slope  of  the  hamlet  of  Centreville, 
at  least  a  third  of  each  regiment  was  far  in  the  rear.  Nearly 
every  man  had,  in  the  heat  and  burden  of  the  march,  thrown 
away  the  provisions  in  his  haversack,  and  that  night  ten 


"THE   ASSYRIAN   CAME   DOWN   LIKE   THE   WOLF."     ?7 

thousand  men  lay  down  supperless  on  the  grateful  green- 
sward, happy  to  rest  and  sleep.  Mother  Earth  must  have 
ministered  to  the  weary  flesh,  for  at  sunrise,  when  the  music 
of  the  bugles  aroused  them,  they  started  up  with  the  alert 
vivacity  of  old  campaigners.  Provisions,  that  should  have 
been  with  the  column  the  night  before,  arrived  in  the  morn- 
ing. While  the  reinvigorated  ranks  were  at  coffee,  there 
was  a  great  clatter  in  the  rear,  and  presently  a  cortege  of 
mounted  officers  appeared,  General  McDowell  among  them. 
Dick  Perley,  who  was  at  the  brigade  headquarters,  with 
Grandison,  came  to  the  Caribees  presently  with  great  news. 

The  battle  was  to  begin  that  very  day.  General  Tyler 
was  to  go  forward  to  a  river  called  Bull  Run,  where  Beaure- 
gard  was  waiting.  The  whole  army  was  to  spread  out  like 
a  fan  and  fight  him.  He  had  seen  the  map  on  the  table,  and 
the  place  couldn't  be  more  than  four  miles  away.  Yes,  they 
all  looked  eagerly  to  the  westward  now.  The  mountains  in 
the  distance  rolled  themselves  down  into  lower  and  lower 
ridges,  and  just  about  four  miles  ahead  could  be  seen  a  range 
that  seemed  to  melt  into  a  wide  plateau  fringed  deeply  with 
scrub-oak  and  clusters  of  pine.  Jack  had  provided  himself 
with  a  field-glass.  Standing  in  the  middle  of  the  Warren- 
ton  pike,  a  fine  highway,  that  ran  downward  as  solid  as  a 
Roman  causeway,  for  four  or  five  miles,  he  could  see  the 
break  made  by  the  Bull  Run  River,  and — yes,  by  the  glaive 
of  battle ! — he  could  see  the  glistening  of  bayonets  now  and 
then,  where  the  screen  of  woods  grew  thinner. 

The  general,  too,  was  examining  the  distant  lines,  and 
Jack  took  it  as  a  good  omen  that  Sherman  grew  jocose  and 
appeared  to  be  making  merry  with  Tyler,  whose  face  looked 
troubled,  now  that  the  decisive  moment  seemed  at  hand. 
But  the  day  passed,  and  there  was  no  advance.  It  was  not 
until  late  in  the  evening  that  the  cause  became  known.  The 
army  had  been  waiting  for  supplies,  ammunition,  and  what 
not,  that  should  have  been  on  the  field  the  day  before.  The 
Caribees  were  made  frantic,  too,  by  what  seemed  a  battle 
going  on  to  the  south  of  them,  a  few  miles  to  the  left.  The 
camp  that  night  was  a  grand  debating  society,  every  man 


78  THE  IRON  GAME.. 

propounding  a  theory  of  strategy  that  would  have  edified 
General  McDowell,  no  doubt,  if  he  could  have  been  given  a 
precis  of  the  whole.  How  such  things  become  known  it  is 
difficult  to  guess,  but  every  man  in  the  columns  knew  that 
the  general  had  planned  to  put  forward  his  thirty  thousand 
men  in  the  form  of  a  half -moon,  covering  about  ten  miles 
from  tip  to  tip.  The  right  or  northward  horn  was  to  be  con- 
siderably thicker  and  of  more  body  than  the  left  or  south- 
ern. When  the  time  came  this  right  was  to  curve  in  like  a 
hook  and  cut  the  ground  out  from  the  left  wing  of  the  rebel 
army. 

This  is  the  homely  way  these  unscientific  strategists  made 
the  movement  known  to  each  other,  and  it  very  aptly  de- 
scribes the  formulated  plan  of  battle,  save  that,  of  course, 
there  were  gaps  between  the  forces  here  and  there  along  this 
human  crescent.  Long  before  daylight  Sherman's  brigade, 
with  a  battery  of  guns  and  a  squadron  of  cavalry,  set  out 
due  south,  leaving  the  broad  Warrenton  pike  far  to  their 
right  hand.  Such  a  country  as  the  march  led  into,  no  one 
had  ever  seen  in  the  North  outside  of  mountain  regions — deep 
gullies;  wastes  of  gnarled  and  aggressive  oaks,  that  tore 
clothes  and  flesh  in  the  passage;  sudden  hillocks  rising  coni- 
cal and  inconsequent  every  few  rods ;  deep  chasms  conduct- 
ing driblets  of  water  ;  morasses  covered  with  dark  and 
stagnant  pools,  where  the  pioneers  fairly  picked  their  steps 
among  squirming  reptiles.  A  stream,  sometimes  large  as  a 
river,  crawling  languidly  through  deep  fissures  in  the  red 
shale,  protected  the  left  flank  of  the  column.  The  cavalry 
was  forced  to  hold  the  narrow  wood-  road,  as  the  bush  was 
hardly  passable  for  men. 

"  Hi,  Jack  ! "  Barney  cries,  catching  his  breath  at  the  edge 
of  a  muddy  stream,  "  what  sort  of  a  place  must  the  rebels  be 
in  if  they  let  us  promenade  through  such  a  jungle  as  this 
unopposed  ? " 

"  I  have  been  thinking  of  that,"  Jack  replies.  And  so 
had  every  man  in  the  expedition — for  to  think  was  one  of 
the  drawbacks  as  well  as  one  of  the  excellences  of  the  soldier 
in  the  civil  war.  But  presently,  after  five  hours  of  labo- 


"THE   ASSYRIAN   CAME   DOWN   LIKE   THE   WOLF."       79 

rious  work,  a  halt  is  called.  The  men  dive  into  their  hav- 
ersacks, and  even  the  brackish  water  in  the  nearest  sedge 
pond  has  a  flavor  of  nectar  and  the  invigoration  of  a  tonic. 
On  they  tear  again,  the  whole  body  pushing  on  in  skirmish- 
like  dispersion.  Suddenly  the  land  changes.  They  are 
climbing  a  rolling  table-land,  cleared  in  some  places  as 
though  the  axe  of  the  settler  had  been  at  work.  The  march 
is  now  easier  and  the  picket-lines  are  strengthened.  Then  a 
sharp  volley  comes,  as  if  from  the  tree-tops. 

The  march  is  instantly  halted.  The  mass,  moving  in  a 
column,  is  deployed— that  is,  stretched  out  to  cover  a  mile 
or  more  as  it  moves  forward  ;  the  cavalry  divides  and  rides 
far  to  right  and  left,  to  see  that  no  ambush  is  set  to  enable 
the  rebels  to  sneak  in  behind  the  vast  human  broom,  as  it 
sweeps  through  the  solemn  aisles  of  the  pines,  now  rising  in 
vernal  columns  thicker  and  thicker.  The  firing  is  going  on 
now  in  scattering  volleys,  and  soon  the  wounded — a  dozen 
or  more — are  carried  back  through  the  silent  ranks.  Joking 
has  now  ceased.  Lips  are  compressed  ;  eyes  glitter,  and  the 
men  avoid  meeting  each  other's  gaze.  It  is  the  moment  of 
all  moments,  the  most  trying  to  the  soldier,  when  he  is  ex- 
pecting every  instant  a  hurricane  of  bullets,  and  yet  sees  no 
one  to  avenge  his  anguish  on  or  forestall  in  the  deadly 
work.  But  they  have  been  moving  forward  all  the  time, 
the  hurtling  bullets  sweeping  through  the  leafy  covering, 
now  and  then  thumping  into  the  soft  pine  with  a  vicious 
joyousness,  as  if  to  say  to  each  man,  "  The  next  is  for  you, 
see  how  well  our  work  is  done."  For  these  hideous  missiles 
have  a  language  of  their  own,  as  every  man  that  stood  fire 
can  tell.  The  skirmishers  are  now  all  drawn  in.  The  solid 
line  must  do  the  work  at  hand.  No  one  but  the  commander 
and  his  confidants  knew  the  work  intended,  save  that  to  kill 
and  be  killed  was  the  business  to  be  done.  The  panting 
lines  are  on  high  cleared  ground  now,  and  they  can  see  ab- 
solutely nothing  but  the  irregular  depressions  that  mark 
the  channel  of  the  Bull  Run,  as  it  rushes  down  to  the  Rap- 
pahannock.  The  line  is  moving  along  steadily.  Looking 
to  left  and  right,  Jack  can  see  the  colors  of  three  regiments, 


80  THE   IRON   GAME. 

and  his  eye  rests  with  pleasure  on  the  bright,  shining  folds 
of  the  Caribees'  dark-blue  State  flag  spread  to  the  breeze 
beside  the  stars  of  the  Union.  Are  they  to  cross  the  river  ? 
Evidently,  for  the  command  is  still  "  Forward,  bear  center, 
bear  right."  Then,  square  in  front,  where  the  thick,  broad 
leaves  of  the  oak  glitter  in  the  sun,  there  is  seen  a  cylinder 
of  steamilike  smoke,  with  fiery  gleams  at  the  end,  a  crack- 
ling explosion  of  a  hogshead  of  fire-crackers,  then  a  rushing, 
screaming  sound  in  their  veiy  faces,  then  a  few  rods  behind 
a  ringing,  vicious  explosion.  They  are  in  the  very  teeth  of 
a  masked  battery.  The  Union  skirmishei's  have  been  with- 
drawn too  soon.  The  main  line  will  be  torn  to  pieces,  for 
retreat  is  as  fatal  as  advance. 

"  Lie  down,  men  ! "  The  command  rings  out  and  is 
echoed  along  the  column.  The  guns  have  the  range,  and 
the  enemy  knows  the  ground.  The  Caribees  are  directly  in 
the  sweep  of  the  artillery,  and  the  command  comes  to  them 
by  company  to  crawl  backward,  exposing  themselves  as  lit- 
tle as  may  be.  Presently  two  brass  guns  are  brought  up 
behind  the  Caribeea.  The  gunners  have  noted  the  point  of 
the  enemy's  fire.  The  men  point  the  big  muzzles  with  in- 
trepid equanimity,  firing  over  the  prostrate  blue  coats.  For 
twenty  minutes,  perhaps  half  an  hour,  this  is  kept  up  ;  then 
there  is  silence  on  the  hill  beyond.  The  column  rises  to  its 
feet,  and  at  the  command,  "  Forward !  "  they  start  with  a  rush 
and  a  cheer.  Five  hundred  yards  onward,  and  a  solid  mass 
of  gray  coats  confront  them.  A  volley  is  fired  and  returned ; 
the  exulting  Caribees,  with  two  lines  behind  them,  give  a 
loud  cheer  and,  in  an  instant,  the  gray  mass  has  disappeared, 
as  if  the  earth  had  opened.  The  skirmish -line,  advancing 
now,  picks  up  a  half-dozen  or  more  wounded  rebels,  besides 
two  or  three  who  had  become  confused  in  the  hasty  retreat 
and  run  toward  the  "  Yankees  "  instead  of  their  own  line. 
Jack's  comrade  held  this  conversation  with  one  of  the  pris- 
oners : 

"  I  say,  reb,  what  place  is  this  ? " 

"Mitchell's  Ford." 

"  Much  of  your  army  here  ? " 


"THE  ASSYRIAN  CAME   DOWN  LIKE  THE  WOLF."     81 

"  'Nuff  to  lick  you  uns  out  of  your  boots,  I  reckon." 

"  What  did  they  run  across  the  ford  tor,  then  ? " 

"  Oh,  you'll  see  soon  enough — when  our  folks  get  ready." 

"  Who's  in  command  here  ?  " 

"  General  Bonham,  of  South  Carolina." 

"  How  many  men,  about  ? " 

.  "Well,  there's  right  smart  on  to  a  million,  I  reckon. 
They  had  to  cut  the  trees  down,  yonder,  to  get  room  for 
'em." 

The  man's  eyes  twinkled  as  he  gave  this  precise  approxi- 
mation ;  but  Barney,  who  had  brought  the  humorist  in, 
whispered  to  the  captain  to  let  him  have  a  moment's  speech 
with  the  man  before  he  was  sent  away.  The  captain  nodded, 
and  Barney  said  innocently  : 

"  Had  anything  to  eat  to-day  ? " 

"  Not  a  mouthful.  The  trains  were  all  taken  up  with 
soldiers  coming  from  Richmond." 

"  Have  a  bit  of  beef — and  here's  a  cracker  or  two.  You 
can  have  some  coffee  if  the  guards  will  let  you  make  it." 

"  Old  Longstreet  himself  would  envy  me  now,"  the  rebel 
cried,  his  mouth  stuffed  with  the  cold  meat  and  hard-tack, 
almost  as  fresh  and  crisp  as  soda-crackers,  for  the  contractors 
had  not  yet  learned  the  trick  of  making  them  out  of  saw- 
dust, white  sand,  and  other  inexpensive  substitutes  for  flour. 

"  Longstreet  ? "  Barney  said,  carelessly. 

"  Yes,  that's  the  commander  of  the  right  wing,  just  below, 
at  Blackburn's  Ford." 

"  Blackburn's  Ford  ?  " 

"  Yes,  that's  a  mile  down,  and  really  behind  you  uns,  for 
the  run  makes  a  big  elbow  to  the  east.  I  tell  you  what  it 
is,  Yank,  you'll  see  snakes  right  soon,  for  our  folks  are  be- 
hind you." 

Sure  enough,  a  crackling  to  the  left  confirmed  this,  and 
the  captain,  who  had  listened  to  Barney's  adroit  cross-ques- 
tioning, sent  the  man  with  a  note  to  Colonel  Sherman,  a 
few  rods  in  the  rear.  Ten  minutes  later  the  column  fell  into 
ranks  again  and  moved  off  swiftly  southeastward.  A  march 
of  a  mile  or  so  brought  them  to  a  bold  ridge"  cutting  down 


82  THE   IRON   GAME. 

almost  aslant  to  the  clear  water  of  the  run.  The  skirmish- 
ers, for  some  reason,  had  not  pushed  ahead  to  explore  the 
ground,  and  the  regiments,  marching  in  close  masses,  came 
out  in  a  rather  disorderly  multitude  on  the  ridged  crest.  A 
hundred  yards  nearly  below  the  water-course  was  fringed 
with  thick  copses  of  oak,  and  the  gently  ascending  slopes  on 
the  western  bank  were  completely  hidden  from  the  Union 
lines.  A  few  gaunt,  almost  limbless  trees  rose  up  spectrally 
on  the  ridge,  offering  the  compact  masses  neither  shelter 
from  the  sun  nor  security  from  the  enemy — if  there  were  an 
enemy  near. 

Dick  came  up  to  Jack  out  of  breath  with  great  news,  just 
as  the  Caribees  were  aligning  themselves  to  move  forward. 

"  General  Tyler  just  told  Richardson  " — a  brigade  com- 
mander— "  that  the  rebels  had  retreated  from  Manassas,  and 
he  (Tyler)  is  going  to  have  the  glory  of  occupying  the  works; 
that  McDowell  thought  the  army  would  have  to  fight  a  big 
battle  to  get—" 

"  Glory!"  the  group  shouted,  near  enough  to  hear;  and 
the  delightful  story  ran  up  and  down  the  lines  by  a  tele- 
phone process  that  was  much  swifter  than  Edison's  electric 
invention.  A  roar  of  gratulatory  triumph  broke — a  roar  so 
loud  and  inspiring  that  for  a  moment  the  densely  packed 
masses  did  not  distinguish  an  ear-splitting  outburst  just  in 
front  of  them.  But  on  the  instant  piercing  shrieks  among 
the  huddled  cheerers — cries  of  death  and  agony — changed 
the  paeans  of  triumph  into  wails  of  anguish  and  mortal  pain. 
A  panic — instant,  unreasoning,  irresistible — fell  upon  the 
mass,  a  breath  before  so  confident.  A  third  of  the  regiment 
seemed  to  wither  away.  The  colors  fell  in  the  struggling 
group  in  the  center.  Hoarse  shouts,  indistinguishable  and 
ominous,  could  be  vaguely  heard  from  the  staff  and  line. 

Direr  still,  hideous  clamor  of  masked  cannon,  right  in 
their  very  faces,  added  the  horror  of  surprise  to  the  disorder 
of  attack,  and  the  thick  blue  lines  broke  in  irrestrainable 
confusion.  The  terror  of  the  unknown  seized  officers  and 
men  alike.  In  five  minutes  the  crest  was  cleared,  and  the 
ignoble  vanity,  ignorance,  and  self-sufficiency  of  one  man 


"THE   ASSYRIAN   CAME  DOWN   LIKE  THE  WOLF."     83 

had  undone  in  an  hour  the  splendid  work  of  the  Com- 
mander-in-chief. A  m$Ue  of  miserable,  disgraceful  dis- 
order ensued.  The  rebel  sharpshooters,  hurrying  to  the 
flank,  poured  in  hurtling,  murderous  volleys,  filling  the 
minds  of  the  panic-stricken  mob  with  the  idea,  the  most 
awful  that  can  enter  a  soldier's  mind,  that  his  line  is  sur- 
rounded. Hundreds  threw  away  guns  and  everything  that 
could  impede  flight.  Other  hundreds  fired  wildly  wherever 
they  saw  moving  men,  and  thus  aided  the  rebels  in  killing 
their  own  comrades,  for  it  was  into  the  supporting  Union 
forces  they  directed  their  random  shots.  The  fire  grew 
every  instant  more  bewildering.  Shots  came  in  volleys 
from  every  direction,  and  the  helpless  hordes  darted  wildly 
together — sometimes  toward,  instead  of  from  the  enemy. 
Had  the  rebels  been  as  numerous  as  they  were  crafty,  the 
brigade  could  have  been  seized  en  masse.  But  now  Sher- 
man is  at  hand  with  fresh  regiments,  others  are  at  his  heels, 
and  the  contest  takes  on  some  of  the  order  of  intelligent 
action.  The  rebels,  too,  are  re-enforced,  but  the  dispositions 
made  by  the  Union  chiefs  bring  the  combat  to  equal  terms. 
The  clamor  of  cannon  and  musketry  continues  an  hour, 
though  the  lines  are  now  among  the  friendly  undergrowth, 
and  the  losses  are  not  serious.  But  the  Caribees,  with  the 
regiment  supporting  them,  have  been  blotted  from  the  scene 
as  a  factor.  For  hours  the  scattering  groups  fled — fled  in 
ever-increasing  panic,  and  it  was  long  after  dark  before  the 
remnants  of  the  regiment  came  into  camp  at  Centreville. 

Poor  Jack  !  He  gave  no  heed  to  supper  that  dreadful 
night.  He  threw  himself  on  the  ground,  too  exhausted  to 
think  and  too  disheartened  to  talk.  He  couldn't  under- 
stand the  shameful  panic.  The  Caribees  were  not  cowards  ; 
every  man  in  the  regiment  had  longed  for  the  battle.  When 
under  fire  at  Mitchell's  Ford,  an  hour  earlier  than  the  disas- 
ter at  Blackburn,  all  had  stood  firmly  in  place,  fought  with 
coolness,  and  gave  no  sign  of  fear.  The  volume  of  fire  when 
they  broke  was  not  much  greater  than  the  Mitchell's  Ford 
volleys.  During  the  night  Grandison  came  to  camp  and  as- 
sembled the  officers.  He  expressed  his  sorrow  at  the  sudden 


84  THE   IRON   GAME. 

shadow  that  had  fallen  on  the  fair  fame  of  the  regiment,  but 
since  the  panic  had  not  been  followed,  as  such  outbreaks 
often  are,  by  the  total  destruction  of  the  men,  there  would 
be  abundant  chance  to  redeem  the  disgrace  of  the  day.  He 
had  himself  begged  the  division  commander  to  give  the 
men  another  trial,  and  he  had  staked  his  commission  on 
their  doing  such  duty  as  would  remove  the  tarnish  of  the 
afternoon  from  their  banners. 

The  officers  had  been  dispirited.  Major  Mike  had  raged 
over  the  field,  through  the  woods,  a  very  angry  man  indeed, 
belaboring  the  fleeing  men  with  his  sword  and  imploring 
those  he  couldn't  reach  to  "  come  to  me  here.  Dress  on  me. 
There's  no  call  to  be  afeard.  We've  more  men  than  they 
have,  and  we'll  soon  wallop  them." 

But  the  resounding  blows  on  the  backs  of  those  near  the 
officer  did  not  give  the  encouraging  emphasis  to  his  appeal 
that  captivates  men  whose  reasoning  faculties  are  almost 
gone  for  the  moment.  Before  daylight  on  the  next  morn- 
ing— Saturday,  the  20th— the  companies  were  called  togeth- 
er and  little  addresses  were  made  to  the  men  by  the  officers. 
The  substance  of  Colonel  Grandison's  words  was  imparted, 
and  the  hope  expressed  that  when,  in  the  course  of  that  or 
the  next  day  the  regiment  was  again  under  fire,  they  would 
show  that  the  panic  of  yesterday  had  not  been  cowardice. 
The  men  said  nothing,  and  every  one  was  glad  that  the  light 
was  so  dim  that  the  officers  could  not  look  in  their  faces, 
though,  as  a  matter  of  fact,  the  shoulder-straps  had  shown 
as  little  fortitude  as  the  muskets  in  the  dispersion.  All  that 
day  the  forces  rested,  the  Caribees  providing  themselves  with 
new  arms  and  equipments,  or  the  two  or  three  hundred  who 
had  flung  their  own  away.  During  the  afternoon  an  inci- 
dent happened  in  the  division  that  lessened  the  mortifica- 
tion of  the  Caribees.  A  splendid  regiment  and  a  battery  of 
bronze  guns  came  into  the  highway  from  the  extreme  of  the 
line  that  was  expected  to  take  part  in  the  battle  which  all 
knew  would  be  opened  the  next  morning.  Every  one  was 
surprised  to  see  the  men  moving  without  muskets  and  the 
colors  wrapped  in  their  cases. 


BLOOD  AND   IRON.  85 

"  Where  you  bound  for  ? "  some  one  at  the  roadside  yelled 
curiously. 

"  Our  time  is  out ;  we're  going  home." 

Then  a  derisive  howl  followed  the  line  as  it  passed  through 
the  masses  of  the  army,  and  remarks  of  an  acrid  nature  were 
made  that  were  not  gratifying  to  the  departing  patriots  : 

"  Don't  you  want  a  guard  to  protect  you  ? " 

"  Does  your  mamma  know  you're  out  alone  ? " 

"  Wait  till  to-morrow  and  we'll  send  Beauregard's  forces 
to  see  you  safe  home." 

The  men  and  officers  looked  very  conscious  and  uncom- 
fortable under  the  gamut  of  jeers,  for  word  went  along  the 
line,  and  all  along  the  route  to  the  rear  they  passed  through 
this  clamor  of  contemptuous  outcry. 

''Well,  I  thought  we  had  reached  the  eminent  deadly 
pinnacle  of  disgrace,"  Barney  said,  with  a  sigh,  as  a  group 
of  Company  K  watched  the  considerable  number  taken  out 
of  McDowell's  small  army,  "  but  this  sight  makes  me  feel 
like  the  man  on  trial  for  murder  who  escapes  with  a  verdict 
of  manslaughter." 


CHAPTER  X. 

BLOOD  AND  IRON. 

LATE  at  night  Dick  came  down  to  Jack's  bivouac  with  a 
strange  tale.  McDowell  had  come  to  Tyler's  quarters  storm- 
ing with  rage.  He  had  accused  that  officer  of  disobeying 
orders  in  forcing  a  fight  on  the  fords  of  Bull  Run  where  he 
had  been  told  to  merely  reconnoitre. 

The  staff  believed  that  Tyler  would  be  cashiered,  for  he 
had  not  only  wrecked  the  general's  plan  of  battle,  but  he  had 
given  the  rebels  the  secret  of  the  movement  and  demoralized 
one  wing  of  the  army  by  putting  raw  soldiers  in  front  of 
masked  batteries  that  could  have  been  detected  by  proper 
outpost  work.  Then  one  of  the  staff  reported  a  speech 


86  THE  IRON   GAME. 

Tyler  had  made  when  his  troops  rushed  over  the  empty  rebel 
breastworks  and  forts  around  Centreville.  His  officers  were 
discussing  the  probable  forces  Beauregard  had  behind  the 
crooked  stream  beyond. 

"  I  believe  we've  got  them  on  the  run,"  Tyler  said,  exult- 
ingly,  "  from  what  we  see  here.  I  tell  you  the  great  man  of 
this  war  is  the  man  that  plants  the  flag  at  Manassas,  and  I'm 
going  through  to  Richmond  to-night." 

"  Not  much  comfort  in  knowing  we've  got  such  a  fool  for 
a  commander,"  Jack  cried,  thinking  of  the  disgrace  of  the 
day  before  and  of  the  small  chance  the  regiment  had  under 
such  a  chief  to  redeem  its  prestige  on  the  morrow.  All  per- 
sonal griefs,  everything  but  the  pending  battle,  were  driven 
from  the  men's  minds  as  the  signs  of  the  momentous  work 
of  the  morrow  accumulated.  The  hospital  corps  was  up  in 
force.  The  yellow  flag  floated  from  an  immense  tent  near 
the  roadway.  A  great  cortege  of  general  officers  rode  away 
from  McDowell's  quarters  about  ten  in  the  evening.  The 
haversacks  were  filled  with  three  days'  cooked  rations.  One 
hundred  rounds  of  ammunition  to  a  man  were  dealt  out  to 
each  company.  Everything  not  absolutely  necessary  was 
ordered  to  the  company  wagons. 

The  talk  in  the  camp  that  night  was  of  home — of  any- 
thing and  everything  but  the  dreadful  to-morrow,  so  long 
looked  forward  to  with  eager  hope,  now  regarded  with  un- 
certainty that  was  not  so  much  fear  as  the  memory  of  the 
panic  at  Blackburn's  Ford.  Jack  was  provided  with  a  large 
atlas  map  of  Virginia,  and  with  the  bits  of  information  given 
by  Dick  he  was  able  to  conjecture  the  probable  plan  of  the 
next  day.  The  cronies  of  Company  K  listened  in  delight  to 
his  exposition  of  the  action. 

''  Here,"  he  said,  "  is  the  Bull  Run.  It  makes  two  big 
elbows  eastward  toward  us — one  about  four  miles  to  the 
northwest  of  us,  the  other  about  eight  miles  to  the  south- 
east of  that,  and  about  four  miles  from  our  right  hand 
here !  The  rebel  we  quizzed  yesterday  says  that  there  are 
five  fords  between  the  Warrenton  pike  bridge — that's  just 
ahead  of  us  yonder  at  the  end  of  the  road  we  are  on — the 


BLOOD  AND  IRON.  87 

last  one  is  McLean's  Ford,  at  the  very  knuckle  of  the  elbow 
that  is  crooked  toward  us  a  mile  west  of  where  we  were  yes- 
terday. That  is  near  the  railway,  which  it  is  Beauregard's 
business  to  fight  for  and  our  business  to  get,  for  then  he  will 
have  to  fall  back  near  Richmond  to  feed  his  army.  Now 
from  the  railway  where  it  crosses  Bull  Run  near  Mitchell's 
Ford  to  the  Warrenton  road,  which  Beauregard  must  also 
hold,  is  about  nine  miles.  He  must  guard  all  these  fords, 
and  we  must  fight  for  any  one  or  two  of  them  that  we  need 
to  cross  by.  The  only  problem  is,  whether  our  general  is 
going  to  strike  with  his  right  arm  at  Mitchell's  Ford,  his  left 
arm  at  this  very  Warrenton  road  we  are  on,  or  whether  he 
means  to  butt  the  middle  of  the  line  of  Beauregard's  battle 
to  break  him  into  two  pieces  ? " 

"  What  would  Frederick  the  Great  or  Napoleon  do  ? " 
Nick  asked,  absorbed  in  Jack's  confident  predications. 

"  If  Frederick  had  equal  forces  he  would  have  a  reserve 
just  where  we  shall  be  in  the  morning — there  at  that  point 
marked  '  Stone  Ridge,'  and  move  a  heavy  mass  to  the  south- 
west below  McLean's  Ford  there,  where  you  see  the  railway 
runs  along  the  run  for  a  half-mile  or  more.  Or  he  would 
send  this  body  to  the  northeast,  over  there  where  you  see 
Sudley  Springs  marked  in  rather  large  letters,  and  he  would 
by  either  one  of  these  movements  turn  the  enemy's  flank — 
that  is,  get  in  behind  him  and  force  him  to  change  front  to 
fight,  something  that  is  rarely  done  successfully  in  battle. 
Napoleon  would,  on  the  contrary,  mass  all  his  best  troops  at 
the  stone  bridge,  open  the  fight  with  every  piece  of  artillery 
he  could  bring  to  bear,  and  in  the  panic  send  divisions  ten 
deep  across  the  bridge." 

"  Which  would  be  the  better  plan  ? " 

"  Ah  !  that  no  one  can  say.  The  first  is  sure  enough  and 
less  dangerous,  if  the  commander  is  not  certain  of  his  men, 
because  you  notice  that  we  felt  excellent  and  confident  all 
day,  so  long  as  we  were  marching  forward  and  pushing  the 
enemy  from  our  path.  The  trial  in  battle  is  to  be  kept  stand- 
ing under  fire,  not  sure  "where  your  enemy  is;  and  then  you 
noticed  that  our  own  guns  behind  us,  sending  shot  and  shells 


88  THE   IRON   GAME. 

over  us,  were  just  as  trying  as  the  rebels'.  Only  soldiers  of  the 
very  first  class  can  be  depended  on  in  the  Napoleon  tactics. 
We  are  not  soldiers  of  the  first  class;  and  you  may  be  sure 
McDowell,  who  was  many  years  in  Europe,  and  who  is  a 
trained  officer,  will  make  use  of  the  manoeuvres  best  calcu- 
lated to  bring  out  whatever  there  is  in  his  men.  As  a  mat- 
ter of  opinion,  I  should  say  that,  in  view  of  the  miserable 
affair  on  the  right  yesterday,  he  will  strike  out  for  Sudley 
Springs,  where  we  shall  have  the  rebels  just  as  you  would 
have  me  if  you  were  at  my  side,  held  my  left  arm  behind 
me,  ready  to  break  my  back  with  your  knee  planted  in  it." 

Jack  was  sergeant  of  the  guard  that  night,  and  it  was  in 
the  group  of  sentries  awaiting  their  relief  every  two  hours, 
re-enforced  by  his  tent-mates  of  Company  K,  that  these 
learned  dissertations  on  war  were  carried  on.  It  was  a 
never-to-be-forgotten  Saturday  night  to  millions  yet  living. 
In  Washington  the  President  and  his  Cabinet  sat  far  into 
the  morning  hours  receiving  the  dispatches  from  the  weary 
and  disappointed  chief — for,  if  Tyler  had  not  made  his  mis- 
erable attempt  to  reach  Manassas,  the  battle  would  have  been 
fought  that  vital  Saturday,  and  the  result  would  have  been 
another  story  in  history.  As  the  morning  broke,  red  and 
murky,  the  army  was  up  and  in  line,  but  without  the  usual 
noisy  signals.  The  artillery-horses  began  to  move  first 
wherever  it  was  possible.  The  heavy  guns  were  pushed  for- 
ward on  the  sward,  to  prevent  the  loud. metallic  clangor  that 
penetrated  the  still  air  like  clashing  anvils.  By  half  after 
six,  the  advance  brigade,  the  Caribees  in  their  old  place,  were 
within  gunshot  of  the  stone  bridge. 

"  Ah  ha,  Jack  !  It  is  the  Napoleonic  plan  ! "  Barney  cried, 
as  the  artillery  took  places  in  front  of  the  masses  lying  on 
the  ground. 

"  Wait,"  Jack  cried,  owlishly.  "  The  battle  isn't  fought 
always  where  the  guns  are  loudest." 

But  the  guns  were  now  loud  and  quick.  The  rebels,  be- 
hind a  thick  screen  of  trees,  took  up  the  challenge,  and  every 
sound  was  drowned  in  the  roar  of  the  artillery.  A  few  far 
in  the  rear  were  wounded— those  nearest  the  rebels  were  in 


BLOOD   AND   IRON.  89 

the  least  danger,  whether  because  the  guns  could  not  be  suffi- 
ciently depressed,  or  because  the  gunners  were  poor  hands, 
couldn't  be  determined.  A  breathless  suspense,  an  insatiate 
craving  to  see,  to  move,  to  fly  forward,  or  do  anything,  de- 
voured the  prostrate  ranks.  The  firing  had  gone  on  two 
hours  or  more,  which  seemed  only  so  many  minutes,  when 
to  the  group  near  General  Tyler  a  courier,  panting  and 
dusty,  rode  in  great  excitement. 

"  General  Tyler,  the  major-general  has  just  learned  that 
the  enemy  have  crossed  in  force  at  Blackburn's  Ford,  below 
you.  You  are  at  once  to  take  measures  to  protect  your  left 
flank." 

"  Ah  ha,  Jack ;  Frederick's  on  the  other  side,  eh  ? "  Bar- 
ney said,  as,  standing  near  the  group,  these  words  reached 
their  ears. 

"  Perhaps  there  are  two  Fredericks  at  work.  Look  yon- 
der ! "  handing  him  his  glass  as  he  spoke. 

"  Thunder  !  our  whole  army  is  marching  over  there  to 
the  right,  and  we  sha'n't  even  see  the  battle.  They  are  four 
miles  off.  Why,  what  an  immense  army  we  must  have  !  I 
thought  this  was  the  bulk  of  it,  but  we're  not  a  brigade  com- 
pared to  that." 

"  Now,  Barney,  I  feel  confident  that  is  the  grand  move- 
ment. Look  how  they  fly  along  !  The  fields  are  as  good  as 
roads  out  there,  and  if  it  were  not  for  the  artillery  they  could 
make  five  miles  an  hour.  Now,  keep  your  ears  open,  my 
lad;  you'll  hear  music  off  there  to  the  northwest— music 
that  will  make  Beauregard  sick,  if  that  courier's  information 
is  exact.  For,  don't  you  see,  as  we  are  placed  here,  with 
that  gully  to  our  left  and  the  thick  woods  in  front,  we  could 
hold  this  ground  against  six  times  our  number." 

Company  K  were  now  sent  forward  to  the  right  to  re- 
lieve a  body  of  skirmishers  that  had  been  hidden  on  the 
margin  of  Bull  Run,  some  distance  to  the  westward  of  the 
stone  bridge.  Jack,  going  forward  with  his  glass,  noticed 
an  officer  among  the  men,  but  not  catching  sight  of  his  face 
did  not  recognize  him. 

" Is  that  a  rebel  or  one  of  our  fellows?"  one  of  the  men 


90  THE   IRON   GAME. 

said,  pointing  to  a  horseman  disappearing  in  the  woods  four 
hundred  yards  to  the  right  and  in  front  of  the  company, 
marching  in  a  straggling  line  two  abreast,  "  by  the  flank,"  as 
it  is  called.  Jack  took  his  glass  to  discover,  but  the  rider 
had  disappeared.  An  instant  after  from  a  knoll,  Jack,  glass 
at  eye,  was  examining  eagerly  the  field  on  the  other  side  of 
the  river,  when  a  horseman  suddenly  shot  into  view,  ridiDg 
desperately. 

"  By  George,  it  is  the  same  man !  I  wonder  how  he 
crossed  the  stream?  There  must  be  a  bridge  down  there 
among  those  thick  trees  and  bushes,"  Jack  said,  excitedly. 

"  Are  you  sure,  sergeant,  that  is  the  same  man  that  was 
in  the  woods  to  the  right  there,  five  minutes  ago  ? " 

Jack  turned ;  the  officer  was  at  his  shoulder.  He  saluted 
respectfully,  recognizing,  with  a  thrill  of  joy,  old  Red  Top, 
as  the  company  called  Sherman. 

"  Yes,  colonel,  it's  the  same  man.  He  was  in  his  shirt- 
sleeves and  had  a  blue  scarf  tied  about  his  ann.  There  can 
be  no  mistake;  several  of  us  saw  him  quite  plainly." 

"  If  that  be  true,  we've  gained  a  half-day's  work  in  two 
minutes."  He  was  looking  diligently  through  the  glass  as 
he  spoke,  and  his  eye  brightened  as  he  marked  the  man  un- 
til he  disappeared.  He  turned  to  an  orderly  that  was  fol- 
lowing at  a  distance  leading  a  horse.  Mounting  this  lightly 
the  colonel  rode  to  the  head  of  the  company  and  said  in  a 
short,  decisive  tone : 

"  Come  ahead  men,  at  a  double-quick,  until  you  strike  the 
stream."  He  kept  beside  the  men  as  they  moved.  In  fifteen 
minutes  they  were  at  the  water's  edge.  Then  the  company 
was  deployed  as  skirmishers,  two  thirds  halting  where  they 
struck  the  water  and  the  rest  keeping  on  up  the  bank  of  the 
river  for  a  few  hundred  yards.  Sherman  was  eying  every 
inch  of  the  bank  until,  suddenly  reaching  a  break  where 
fresh  tracks  of  a  horse  were  visible,  he  directed  his  orderly 
to  follow,  and  plunged  into  the  water.  It  was  not  up  to  the 
horses'  knees  from  bank  to  bank.  Riding  back,  his  face 
aglow,  the  colonel  ordered  the  captain  to  cross  half  his  men 
and  station  them  up  and  down  on  the  bank  where  they  would 


BLOOD  AND  IRON.  91 

not  be  seen  by  the  rebels  on  the  high  ground  above.  Then, 
addressing  Jack,  he  said : 

"  Sergeant,  select  two  or  three  trusty  men.  Follow  the 
bank  of  the  stream  until  you  come  to  General  Hunter's  di- 
vision, which  may  be  a  mile,  perhaps  more,  to  the  right  yon- 
der; you  can  tell  by  the  firing  soon.  Tell  General  Hunter 
that  we  have  discovered  a  ford  and  shall  not  have  to  fight 
lor  the  stone  bridge.  We  shall  be  across  in  no  time  and 
take  the  enemy  in  the  rear.  If  you  can't  find  Hunter,  give 
this  intelligence  to  any  officer  in  command.  Stay." 

He  scribbled  a  line  on  a  sheet  of  his  order-book,  saying: 
"  This  will  be  your  authority.  It's  better  not  to  write  the 
rest  for  fear  you  should  be  captured.  In  case  you  are  in 
danger  tell  each  man  with  you  what  to  say,  so  that  there 
will  be  more  chances  of  getting  the  information  where  it 
will  do  good;  and  remember,  sergeant,  that  this  news  in 
Hunter's  hands  will  be  almost  equivalent  to  victory.  Ah  1 " 

He,  paused  again.  Reverberating  crashes  came  from  the 
high  grounds  up  the  river.  "  You  will  have  no  trouble  in 
finding  him  now.  Those  are  Hunter's  guns.  Hurry." 

Glowing,  grateful,  big  with  the  fate  of  the  battle,  Jack 
had  Barney,  Nick,  and  another,  whom  he  charged  with  the 
duty  of  historian,  detailed  for  this  duty  of  glory.  The  group 
set  off  with  a  fervent  Godspeed  from  the  company  sheltered 
among  the  thick  pines  and  oaks. 

"Now,  boys,"  Jack  said,  every  inch  the  captain,  "we 
must  spread  out  like  skirmishers.  Our  chief  danger  will  be 
from  the  left,  as  no  one  will  be  likely  to  be  in  the  water  but 
our  own  men,  and  we  must  look  as  sharply  for  them  as  for 
the  enemy.  I  will  take  the  center;  you,  Barney,  the  left, 
next  to  me;  and  you,  Nick,  four  paces  farther  to  the  left. 
Jack  looked  at  his  watch.  It  was  just  9.30,  Sunday  morn- 
ing, July  21,  1861.  The  crash  of  musketry  ahead  now  be- 
came one  unbroken  roar,  with  a  crescendo  of  artillery  that 
fairly  shook  the  ground  the  messengers  were  darting  over, 
for  all  were  on  a  dead  run.  The  bushes  grew  thick  on  the 
hillside  and  their  branches  were  stubborn  as  crab  thorns. 
Hell,  as  Barney  afterward  remarked,  would  have  been  cool 


92  THE   IRON   GAME. 

in  comparison  to  the  heat  as  the  adventurers  tugged  and 
wrestled  forward.  Now  guns  were  roaring  on  every  side 
save  the  river.  Behind,  before,  to  the  left,  the  thunders 
played  upon  the  parched  land.  At  the  end  of  a  half-hour 
the  bullets  and  shells  passed  over  the  group  as  Jack  and  his 
squad  pushed  along  the  hilly  way.  Twice,  commands,  and 
even  the  clicking,  of  what  Jack  knew  must  be  rebel  guns 
sounded  not  twenty  paces  away,  but,  thanks  to  the  thick 
bushes,  the  scouts  passed  unseen,  and,  thanks  to  the  noise  of 
battle,  unheard.  But  now  the  danger  is  from  friends,  not 
enemies.  Balls  come  hurtling  through  the  trees  across  the 
stream,  and  in  a  low  voice  Jack  bids  Barney  summon  Nick. 
Then  all  slip  down  to  the  water's  edge,  and  make  their  way 
painfully  through  the  marshy  swamps,  the  cane-like  rushes 
that  fill  the  narrow  valley.  The  run  has  been  a  fearful 
strain  upon  Nick,  and  at  length  he  falls,  gasping,  in  a  clump 
of  cat-tails. 

"  What  is  it,  old  fellow  ? "  Jack  cries  in  alarm. 

"  O  Jack !  I  can't  go  a  step  farther.  You  go  on  and 
leave  me.  I  shall  follow  when  I  get  breath." 

He  was  white  and  gasping.  Barney  filled  his  canteen 
from  the  running  water,  and,  wetting  his  handkerchief,  laid 
it  on  Nick's  parboiled  head  and  temples. 

"Rest  a  few  minutes,"  Jack  said,  soothingly.  "I  will 
reconnoitre  a  bit."  Stripping  off  his  accoutrements,  he 
clasped  a  tall  sycamore  growing  at  the  crest  of  the  ravine, 
and  when  far  up  brought  his  glass  to  bear.  A  third  of  a 
mile  to  the  left  and  southward,  he  could  see  a  regiment  with 
a  flag  bearing  a  single  star,  surrounding  a  small  stone  farm- 
house, on  the  brow  of  a  gentle  hill.  They  were  firing  to  the 
west  and  toward  the  north,  where  the  black  clouds  obscured 
his  view.  But  the  red  gleam  in  the  smoke  told  of  at  least  a 
dozen  guns,  and  he  knew  that  the  main  battle  was  there, 
though  the  fury  of  it  reached  far  to  the  east,  near  the  stone 
bridge  which  he  had  quit  an  hour  before.  Then  through 
the  veil  of  smoke  long,  deep  masses  of  blue  emerge  and 
make  for  the  rebel  front  on  the  brow  of  the  hill,  fairly  at 
Jack's  feet ;  the  enemy  redoubles  the  fire  ;  two  guns  at  their 


BLOOD   AND   IRON.  93 

left  pour  canister  into  the  advancing  wall  of  blue.  It  never 
wavers,  but,  as  a  group  falls  to  the  earth,  the  rest  close  to- 
gether and  the  mass  whirls  on. 

Jack  feels  like  flying.  Oh,  the  grandeur  of  it,  the  fear- 
lessness, the  intoxication !  He  almost  falls  from  the  tree  in 
his  excitement.  But  he  takes  a  last  sweep  of  the  belching 
hill.  Hark  !  Loud  cheers  in  the  trees  back  of  the  rebels,  far 
to  the  southeast,  perhaps  a  mile  and  a  half  ;  then  the  flaunt- 
ing Palmetto  flag  flying  forward  in  the  center  of  deep  masses 
of  gray.  Which  will  reach  the  hill  first  ?  He  can  not  quit 
the  deadly  sight.  Ah !  the  blue  lines  are  pressing  on  now  ; 
the  cannon-shots  pass  over  their  heads  into  the  devoted  line 
of  gray,  desperately  thinned,  but  clinging  to  the  key  of  the 
battle-field.  But,  great  God  !  Perhaps  his  delay  is  aiding 
the  enemy.  He  sees  the  route  now  clear — straight  to  the 
west — and  no  rebels  near  enough  to  intervene.  He  descends 
so  fast  that  his  hands  and  legs  are  blistered,  but  he  is  down. 

"  Look  sharp,  boys ;  you  must  follow  me  as  best  you  can. 
1  know  the  route — there  is  a  forest  path  directly  to  our  lines, 
and  we  shall  be  there  in  twenty  minutes — I  shall,  at  least." 
He  doesn't  stop  to  see  whether  he  is  followed  or  not,  but 
dashes  on,  and  the  rest  after  him.  He  is  far  out  of  sight  in 
an  instant.  It  is  only  by  the  crackling  of  the  branches  that 
the  others  keep  his  course.  The  way  is  between  steep,  pre- 
cipitous hills,  which  explains  how  they  could  be  so  near  the 
battle  and  yet  not  in  it,  nor  harmed  by  the  missiles  flying 
sometimes  very  near  them.  At  a  deep  branch  of  the  stream 
the  three  rearmost  came  in  sight  of  Jack,  up  to  his  arm-pits 
in  water  and  pushing  for  the  shore. 

While  they  are  hailing  him  exultantly  he  sinks  out  of 
sight ;  an  awful  anguish  almost  stops  the  others,  but  Bar- 
ney, flinging  his  musket  and  impediments  off  as  he  runs, 
leaps  far  into  the  stream,  and  when  the  rest  reach  the  spot 
he  has  Jack  by  the  hair,  dragging  him  to  the  bank.  He  is 
fairly  worn  out  by  the  stress,  and  the  others  loosen  his  coat, 
stretch  him  on  the  brown  sward  and  rub  his  hands,  his  body. 
It  is  ten  minutes,  it  seemed  an  hour,  before  he  is  able  to  get 
up,  and  the  rest  insist  on  carrying  his  accoutrements.  Then 


94  THE   IRON   GAME. 

the  wild  race  is  begun  again,  every  instant  bringing  them 
nearer  the  pandemonium  of  battle.  Suddenly  the  sharp 
commands  of  officers  are  heard  in  front  and  to  the  left.  Is 
it  the  enemy,  or  is  it  friends  ?  The  group  halts  in  an  agony 
of  doubt.  How  can  they  find  out  ?  Barney  takes  out  his 
handkerchief  and  puts  it  on  his  gun,  which  he  was  careful 
to  go  back  and  recover  when  Jack  was  on  the  bank.  A  ray 
of  bright  red  suddenly  flits  above  the  thick  tops  of  the  scrub- 


Yes,  God  be  praised,  there  is  the  flag  of  stars,  and  there 
are  blue  uniforms!  With  a  wild  hurrah,  drowned  in  the 
musketry  to  the  left,  they  rush  forward,  are  halted  by  a 
picket  guard,  exhibit  Sherman's  order,  and  are  directed  to 
the  commanding  officer.  That  personage  has  no  knowledge 
of  General  Hunter's  whereabouts,  but  Colonel  Andrew  Por- 
ter is  just  beyond,  commanding  the  brigade.  To  him  Jack 
makes  known  Sherman's  message,  and  is  directed  farther  to 
the  southwest,  the  Union  right  now  facing  nearly  to  the 
east  in  the  execution  of  McDowell's  admirable  flank  ma- 
noeuvre. 

Now  among  their  own,  Sherman's  couriers  run  more 
peril  than  when  skirting  the  edge  of  the  battle,  for  the  shells 
are  directed  at  the  line  they  are  pursuing.  They  push  to  the 
rear  and  continue  southeastward,  where  Hunter's  head- 
quarters are  supposed  to  be.  But  Jack  is  easy  on  the  score 
of  his  mission,  since  the  general,  who  is  nearest  the  stone 
bridge,  has  been  apprised,  and  well  knows  that  the  fire 
which  has  been  coming  near  his  left  flank  is  Sherman's. 
Until,  however,  he  has  executed  his  orders  literally  Jack 
won't  be  satisfied,  and  plunges  on,  the  others-  following, 
nothing  loath.  But  it  is  a  way  of  pain  for  the  lads  now. 
Every  step  they  come  upon  the  dead  and  dying.  The  air  is 
filled  with  moaning  men,  whinnying  horses,  the  hurried 
movement  of  stretchers,  the  solemn  solicitude  of  the  hospital 
corps.  The  line  of  foremost  battle  is  less  terrifying,  less  try- 
ing than  this  inner  way  of  Golgotha,  and  the  four  are  well- 
nigh  unnerved  when  they  reach  a  group  where  the  com- 
manding officer  has  been  pointed  out. 


BLOOD   AND   IRON.  95 

"  General  Hunter  ? "  Jack  says,  addressing  an  officer  with 
a  star. 

"  My  name  is  Franklin.  General  Hunter  was  wounded 
an  hour  ago.  What's  the  matter  ? " 

Jack  gave  his  message,  and  Franklin  said,  cheerfully  : 
"  That's  good  news.  You're  a  very  brave  fellow.  Go  a  few 
yards  in  the  rear  yonder  and  you'll  find  General  McDowell. 
He'll  enjoy  your  message." 

On  the  hill  they  halt  electrified. 

Thick  copses  of  scrub-pine  dot  the  gently  sloping  sward. 
Here  and  there  clumps  of  tall  pines  stand  in  the  bare,  brown 
sod  as  if  to  guard  the  young  outshoots  clustering  about  them 
in  wanton  dispersion.  Cow-paths,  marked  only  by  the  worn 
edges  of  the  bushes,  run  in  zigzags  across  the  hillside  and 
up  to  the  plateau.  The  remnants  of  rail  fences  strew  the 
ground  here  and  there.  The  low  roof  of  the  farm-house 
can  be  seen  far  back  even  from  the  depression,  where  the 
lines  of  blue  are  now  resting  a  brief,  deadly  half -hour. 

The  sun  is  now  behind  the  halted  line  of  blue  ;  the  bay- 
onets, catching  the  light,  make  a  sea  of  liquid,  mirror-like 
rivulets  hovering  in  the  air,  with  the  bushy  branches  of  pine 
rising  like  green  isles  in  the  shimmering  tide.  The  men  are 
filling  their  cartridge-boxes  ;  new  regiments  are  gliding  into 
the  gaps  where  death  has  cut  the  widest  swath.  From  the 
woods,  cries,  groans,  commands,  clashing  steel  as  the  men 
hustle  against  each  other  in  the  rush  into  line,  prelude  the 
Vulcan  clamor  soon  to  begin.  Men,  bent,  sometimes  crawl- 
ing, with  stretchers  on  their  shoulders,  glide  through  the 
maimed  and  shrieking  fragments  of  bodies,  picking  out  hero 
and  there  those  seeming  capable  of  carriage.  Other  men, 
prone  on  their  faces,  hold  canteens  of  tepid,  muddy  water — 
but  ah !  a  draught  to  the  feverish  lips  which  seems  godlike 
nectar.  Against  the  stout  bodies  of  the  trees,  armless  men, 
legless  trunks,  the  maimed  in  every  condition  of  death's  fan- 
tastic sport,  hold  themselves  limply  erect,  to  gain  succor  or 
save  some  of  the  vital  stream  pouring  from  their  gaping 
wounds. 

Couriers  dash  up  to  the  impassive  chief,  calm-eyed,  keen, 
7 


96  THE   IRON   GAME. 

alert,  surveying  the  line,  dispatching  brief  commands,  re- 
ceiving reports.  It  is  Franklin.  With  the  air  of  a  mar- 
shal on  a  civic  pageant,  perplexed  only  by  some  geometrical 
problem  denying  the  possibility  of  two  right  lines  on  the 
same  plane,  he  glances  upward  toward  the  brow  of  the  pla- 
teau. The  four  flags  had  been  increased  by  half  a  dozen. 
Ah,  they  have  received  aid  !  A  tremendous  crash  comes 
from  the  left.  That  must  be  Sherman.  He  is  on  the  rebel 
rear.  One  strong  pull,  and  the  two  bodies  will  be  united,  his 
left  arm  reaching  Sherman's  right.  The  shining  mirage  of 
steel  above  the  green  isle  sinks.  The  clash  of  hurtling  ac- 
coutrements comes  up  musically,  tranquilly  from  the  low 
ground.  The  blue  mass,  first  deliberately,  then  in  a  quiet, 
regular  run,  passes  like  a  moving  barricade  up  the  sloping 
hillside.  Then  from  one  end  of  the  long  wall  to  the  other 
white  puffs  as  of  some  monster  breathing  spasmodically. 

The  air  is  a  blur  of  sulphurous  blackness.  The  bullets 
are  as  thick  as  if  a  swarm  of  leaden  locusts  had  been  routed 
from  the  foliage,  and  taken  wing  hillward.  Then  behind, 
through  the  gaps  in  the  trees,  big,  whining,  screeching 
swarms  of  another-caliber  shells  fly  over  the  wall  of  blue. 
In  a  moment  the  ground  of  the  plateau  is  torn,  the  red  clay 
flying  far  into  the  air.  But  now  the  blue  wall  is  gird- 
ling the  very  crest  of  the  hill ;  it  stops,  shrivels.  Long  gaps 
are  cut  in  its  broken  surface.  The  hillside  is  dotted  with 
sprawling  figures.  The  crest  is  a  ragged  edge  of  writhing 
bodies  and  struggling  limbs.  Forward !  The  wall  is  advanc- 
ing, but  shorter.  It  is  within  reach  of  the  shining  guns 
— spouting  flame  and  iron  in  the  very  face  of  the  dauntless 
wall.  Then  there  is  a  pause.  The  smoke  hides  everything 
but  the  maimed  and  quivering  heaps  that  strive  to  crawl 
backward,  back  to  the  crest,  back  to  the  deeps  that  are  not 
rest  nor  security.  The  hillside  is  like  a  field,  covered  with 
sheaved  grain — with  a  thousand  mangled  bodies  that  had 
been  men. 

Then  to  these  wrestling  specters — for  in  the  dim  smoke 
and  Tartarean  atmosphere  the  actions  of  loading  and  aiming 
take  the  shape  of  huge  writhing,  convulsing,  monstrous, 


BLOOD   AND   IRON.  97 

grappling — come  quick-moving  lines  of  help.  They  rush 
through  them,  over  them.  The  thirteen  cannon  behind  the 
struggling  hydra  of  gray  seem  one  vortex — sulphurous, 
naming,  spitting,  as  from  one  vast  mouth,  scorching  fire, 
huge  mouthfuls  of  granite  venom.  Back — back,  the  gray 
masses  break  in  sinuous,  definite,-  slow-yielding  disruption. 

Then  a  sudden  inrush  from  the  left  of  the  broken  gray, 
where  smoke  and^space  play  fantastic  tricks  with  the  sun- 
shine. Miraculously  a  dark  mass  is  projected  on  the  shim- 
mering spectrum,  and  a  ringing  voice  is  heard : 

"  We  are  saved ;  we  are  re-enforced.  We  will  die  here !  " 
Then  high  above  the  din,  in  the  exultant  tumult  of  the  deadly 
won  ground,  the  nearest  in  blue  hear  a  stentorian  voice — 
grim,  deliberate,  exultant: 

"  Look  where  Jackson  stands  like  a  stone  -  wall !  At 
them,  men!  Let  us  determine  to  die  here,  and  we  will 
conquer." 

Die  he  did,  when  the  yelling  horde  in  the  sudden  outrush 
grazed  the  edge  of  the  Union  besom  sweeping  over  the  plain 
in  a  rush  of  death.  Then  behind  these  spectral  shapes  came 
others — thousands — with  wild,  fierce  shouts.  The  blue  mass 
is  thinned  to  a  single  line.  Men  in  command  look  anxiously 
to  the  rear.  Where  is  Burnside  ?  Where  are  the  twelve 
thousand  men  whom  Hunter  and  Heintzelman  deployed  in 
these  woods  two  hours  since  ?  Back,  slowly,  fiercely,  but 
backward,  the  slender  wall  of  blue  is  forced ;  not  defeated, 
but  not  victorious.  All  this  Jack  sees,  and  he  turns  heart- 
sick from  the  sight. 

When  the  straggling  couriers  reached  the  point  designated 
as  McDowell's  headquarters,  he  had  gone  to  the  eastward  of 
the  line,  and,  faithful  to  the  command  given  him,  Jack  set 
out  with  Barney,  leaving  the  others  to  deliver  the  message 
in  case  he  missed  the  general.  They  emerged  presently  on 
the  edge  of  a  plateau,  whence  nearly  the  whole  battle  could 
be  seen.  Jack  climbed  a  tall  oak  to  reconnoitre  the  ground 
for  McDowell,  but,  as  his  glass  revealed  the  battling  lines,  he 
shouted  to  Barney  to  climb  for  a  moment,  to  impress  the 
frightful  yet  grandiose  spectacle  upon  his  mind.  Far  off 


98  THE  IRON  GAME. 

toward  the  stone  bridge,  now  a  mile  or  more  northeast  of 
them,  they  could  see  the  Union  flags  waving,  and  mark  the 
white  puffs  of  smoke  that  preceded  the  booming  of  the  can- 
non. Every  instant  the  clouds  of  smoke  came  southward, 
where  the  rebel  lines  were  concealed  by  the  thick  copses. 
But  they  were  breaking — always  breaking  back  anew.  In 
twenty  minutes  more,  at  the  same  rate,  the  hill  upon  which 
the  rebel  lines  nearest  the  tree  held  the  Union  right  at  bay 
would  be  surrounded  on  two  sides. 

This,  for  the  moment,  was  a  sulphurous  crater,  the  fire- 
belching  demons,  invisible  in  the  smoke.  Through  the  glass 
Jack  could  see  the  lines  clearly — or  the  smoke  arising  above 
them.  The  enemy  had  been  pushed  back  nearly  two  miles 
since  he  had  left  Colonel  Sherman  a  few  rods  above  the 
stone  bridge.  The  Union  force,  as  marked  by  the  veil  of 
smoke,  curved  about  the  foemen,  a  vast  crescent,  seven  miles 
or  more  from  tip  to  tip.  The  bodies  opposing  were  scattered 
like  a  gigantic  staircase,  with  the  angles  of  the  steps  con- 
fronting each  other  step  by  step.  But  now  the  Union  ranks 
at  Jack's  feet  rush  forward ;  a  group  of  riders  are  coming  to 
the  tree,  and  Jack  descends  hastily  to  meet  the  general.  He 
is  again  disappointed.  It  is  not  McDowell.  At  a  loss  what 
to  do,  he  salutes  one  of  the  officers  and  states  his  case,  recog- 
nizing, as  he  turns,  General  Franklin. 

"  I  don't  see  that  you  can  do  better  than  remain  where 
you  are,  or,  still  better,  push  to  the  brow  of  that  hill  yonder 
and  act  as  a  picket.  In  case  you  see  any  force  approaching 
from  this  side,  which  is  not  likely,  give  warning.  Our  cav- 
alry ought  to  be  here,  but  it  isn't.  If  you  are  called  to  ac- 
count when  the  battle  is  done,  give  me  as  your  authority. 
I  take  it  your  brigade  will  be  around  here  pretty  soon,  if 
they  make  as  rapid  work  all  the  way  as  they  have  made 
since  eleven  o'clock.  If  the  cavalry  come,  you  can  report  to 
the  nearest  officer  for  assignment." 


THE  LEGIONS  OF  VARUS.  99 

CHAPTER  XI. 
THE  LEGIONS  OF  VARUS. 

THE  two  free  lances  set  out  now,  relieved  of  all  responsi- 
bility, and  determined  to  watch  the  open  fields  and  woods  to 
see  that  this  part  of  the  field  was  not  surprised.  The  hill  to 
which  the  general  had  directed  them  was  farther  from  the 
battle  than  they  had  yet  been,  but  the  work  going  on  to  the 
northeast  showed  that  this  would  soon  be  the  western  edge 
of  the  combat  if  Sherman  continued  advancing.  They  are 
soon  on  the  hill,  and  Jack  posts  himself  in  a  tree  with  his 
glass.  There  is  a  lull  in  the  quarter  they  have  just  quit. 
The  smoke  rolls  away,  and  now  he  can  see  streams  of  gray- 
coats  hurrying  to  the  edge  of  the  plateau,  where,  two  hours 
before,  he  had  encountered  Porter's  brigade.  Can  it  be  pos- 
sible that  Porter's  troops  do  not  see  these  on-rushing  hordes  ? 
They  are  moving  on  the  right  point  of  the  crescent,  and  un- 
less the  Union  commander  is  alert  they  will  break  in  on  the 
back  of  the  point ;  for  Jack,  without  knowing  it,  was  virtu- 
ally in  the  rebel  lines — that  is,  he  was  nearer  the  rebel  left 
flank,  the  foot  of  the  long,  bow-shaped  staircase,  than  he  was 
to  the  tip  of  the  Union  crescent. 

But  no  !  The  Stars  and  Stripes  fly  forward;  they  are  on 
the  very  crest  whence  the  defiant  guns  spat  upon  them.  But 
now  the  smoke  covers  everything.  Then  there  is  a  calm. 
The  ground  is  clear  again.  The  gray  masses  are  pouring  up 
to  the  crest  in  still  greater  numbers;  a  large  body  of  them 
march  down  the  hill  in  the  rear  of  the  Union  line  con- 
cealed by  the  woods  ;  they  march  right  up  to  the  ranks 
where  the  red-barred  flag  is  flying  !  What  can  it  mean  ? 
Neither  side  fires.  There  must  surely  be  some  mistake. 
Hark  !  now  the  blue  line  discovers — too  late — that  the  mass 
is  the  enemy,  and  half  the  line  withers  in  the  point-blank 
discharge.  They  are  swept  from  the  ground.  Jack  is  trem- 
bling—  demoniac.  The  gray  mass  springs  forward;  they 
have  seized  the  guns — four  of  them — and  turn  them  upon 
the  disappearing  blue.  Then  a  hoarse  shout  of  delirious 


100  THE  IROX  GAME. 

triumph.  The  guns  are  lost ;  the  day  is  lost,  for  now  there 
are  no  blue-coats  in  sight.  But  no  !  A  still  wilder  shout- 
electrifying,  stentorian — comes  across  the  plateau.  The  blue 
mass  reappears;  they  come  with  a  wild  rush  in  well-ordered 
array;  they  are  the  regulars,  Jack  can  tell  by  their  move- 
ments. It  must  be  the  famous  Eickett's  battery  he  saw  at 
Centreville  in  the  morning.  In  five  minutes  the  tale  was 
retold,  and  the  guns,  snatched  from  the  worsted  gray -coats, 
are  safe  in  the  hands  of  their  masters.  Again  the  smoke 
obscures  the  picture ;  again  it  clears  away,  and  now  the  gray 
are  in  greater  force  than  before,  and  the  horseless  batteries 
are  again  the  prize  of  this  rapacious  grapple.  Swarming  in 
from  three  sides,  the  gray  again  hold  the  contested  pieces. 
The  blue  vanish  into  the  thick  bushes.  Another  irruption, 
another  pall  of  smoke,  and  Jack's  heart  bounds  in  exultant 
joy,  for  he  sees  the  New  York  flag  in  the  van.  Sherman 
has  reached  the  point  of  dispute.  But  alas  !  the  guns 
are  run  back,  and  as  the  gray  lines  sway  rearward  in  bil- 
lowy, regular  measure,  they  retain  the  Titanically  contested 
trophies. 

The  sun  is  now  far  beyund  the  meridian.  The  Union 
lines  are  closing  up  compactly.  One  more  such  grapple  as 
the  last  and  the  broad  plateau  where  the  rebel  artillery  is 
massed,  pointing  westward,  northward,  eastward,  will  be 
won.  But  a  palsy  seems  to  have  settled  on  the  lines  of  blue. 
They  are  motionless,  while  their  adversaries '  are  hurrying 
men  f  rom  some  secret  place,  where  they  seem  to  be  inexhausti- 
ble. The  whole  battle  is  now  within  the  compass  of  a  mile. 
But  where  can  these  hordes  come  from  ?  Surely,  General 
McDowell  has  never,  been  mad  enough  to  leave  them  disen- 
gaged along  the  fords!  No;  they  do  not  come  from  that 
direction.  They  come  at  the  very  center  of  the  rebel  rear. 
Can  it  be  that  troops  are  arriving  from  Kichmond  ?  The 
Southern  lines  are  longer  than  the  Northern,  but  they  have 
been  since  the  first  moment  Jack  got  a  glimpse  of  them.  He 
could  see,  too,  that  they  were  thinner;  that  on  the  spur  of 
the  plateau  in  front  of  the  massed  rebel  artillery  a  single 
brigade  was  holding  the  Union  mass  at  bay.  He  can  almost 


THE   LEGIONS   OF  VARUS.  101 

hear  the  rebel  commands  as  the  re-enforcements  pour  in. 
But  now  the  thunder  breaks  out  anew,  rolls  in  vengeful 
fury  around  the  western  and  northern  base  of  the  plateau. 
The  gray  lines  stagger;  the  falling  men  block  the  steps  of 
the  living.  Surely  now  McDowell  is  going  to  do  or  die. 
Yes.  The  iron  game  goes  on  •  the  blue  lines  jostle  and 
cmsh  forward.  They  are  at  the  last  wall  of  resistance.  But 
what  is  the  sound  at  his  very  feet  ?  As  Jack  looks  down  in 
the  narrow  way  between  the  hill  he  is  on  and  the  plateau  on 
the  very  edge  of  the  Union  line — in  fact,  behind  it  now,  for 
it  has  moved  forward  since  he  took  post — a  rushing  mass  of 
gray-clad  soldiery  is  moving  forward  on  the  dead  run.  In 
one  instant  the  head  of  the  column  is  where  General  Franklin 
rode  but  an  hour  or  two  before.  He  looks  for  Barney.  He 
can  see  him  nowhere.  He  climbs  down  in  haste  and  dis- 
covers liis  comrade  soundly  sleeping  against  the  base  of 
the  tree. 

"  Barney,  the  army  is  ruined ! " 

"  Is  the  battle  over  ? " 

"  Oh,  no,  no,  but  it  will  be  in  a  moment.  Hark,  hear 
that!" 

A  roar  of  musketry — it  seemed  at  their  very  feet.  Then 
an  outbreak  of  yells,  so  sharp,  so  piercing,  so  devilish  the 
sound,  that  the  marrow  froze  in  their  veins,  arose,  as  if  from 
the  whole  thicket  about  them. 

"  Is  it  too  late  to  warn  General  Franklin  ? "  Barney 
asked,  trembling. 

"  Ah,  Barney,  we  are  as  bad  as  traitors ;  we  ought  to  have 
seen  these  rebels  before  they  got  near.  If  we  had  done  our 
duty  this  would  never  have  happened.  Perhaps  it  is  not  too 
late  to  get  back.  Let  me  go  up  and  see  where  we  can  find 
a  way  without  running  into  the  enemy." 

Reaching  his  perch  again,  Jack  cast  his  despairing  eyes 
toward  the  fatal  hill.  It  was  now  clear  of  smoke,  and  there 
wasn't  a  regiment  left  on  it.  His  heart  leaped  for  an  in- 
stant, the  next  it  was  lead,  for  the  ranks  that  had  disap- 
peared were  down  on  the  brow  of  the  hill — in  the  valley — 
rushing  forward,  unresisted,  the  red  and  blue  of  the  Union, 


102  THE   IRON   GAME. 

mixed  with  the  stars  and  bars  of  the  rebellion ;  but,  worse 
than  all,  the  ranks  of  gray  were  sweeping  in  overwhelming 
masses  quite  behind  the  lines  of  blue,  cutting  them  down  as 
a  scythe  when  near  the  end  of  the  furrow.  To  the  eastward 
Sherman  still  clung  desperately  to  the  crests  he  had  won, 
but  Jack  saw  with  agony  that,  slipping  between  him  and  the 
river,  a  great  wedge  of  gray  was  hurrying  forward.  His 
last  despairing  glance  caught  a  body  of  jet-black  horses  gal- 
loping wildly  into  the  dispersing  ranks  of  blue.  He  came 
down  from  the  tree  limp,  nerveless,  unmanned. 

"  Well  ?  "  Barney  asked. 

"  It's  all  over— we  are  ruined ! " 

"  The  army,  you  mean  ? " 

"Ah,  yes!  the  army  and  we  too." 

"  But  what's  going  to  become  of  us  ? " 

"  I  don't  much  care  what  becomes  of  us — at  least  I  don't 
care  what  becomes  of  me ! " 

"  But  if  we  don't  get  back  to  our  regiment,  they'll  think 
we're  deserters." 

"Good  God,  yes!  I  forgot  that;  I  think  I  can  find  the 
way  back.  But  we'll  have  to  be  careful,  the  enemy  are  all 
around  us.  I  can  hear  them  plainly,  vei'y  near.  Follow 
me,  and  don't  speak  above  a  whisper." 

Then,  with  swift  movement,  always  as  near  the  thick 
bushes  as  they  could  push,  they  fled  faster  and  faster,  as  fear 
fell  more  and  more  heavily  upon  their  quickened  fancies. 
The  thought  of  the  repute  of  deserters  lent  them  endurance, 
or  they  must  have  broken  down  before  the  weary  shif tings 
of  that  dreadful  flight.  They  are  now  near  the  spot  where 
they  had  met  Porter's  pickets  in  the  morning.  The  sounds 
of  battle  had  died  out  at  intervals,  renewed  now  and  again 
by  an  outcry  of  cheers,  a  quick  fusillade,  then  more  cheers, 
and  then  an  ominous  silence.  But  now  there  is  a  continu- 
ous roll  of  musketry  near  the  knoll,  back  of  the  Warrenton 
road.  The  two  wanderers,  breathless,  with  torn  uniforms, 
swollen  faces,  halt,  gasping,  to  take  their  bearings.  They 
can  see  the  turnpike  far  beyond  the  stone  bridge  half-way  to 
Centreville ;  they  see  crowds  fleeing  in  zigzag  lines  over  the 


THE  LEGIONS  OF  VARUS.  103 

open  fields,  see  horses  plunging  wildly,  laden  down  by  two 
and  even  three  men  on  their  backs ;  they  see  vehicles  over- 
turned at  the  roadside,  whence  the  horses  have  been  cut  or 
killed  by  the  rebel  shells ;  they  see  an  army,  in  every  sense 
a  mob,  swarming  behind  the  deserted  rebel  forts ;  they  see 
orderly  ranks  of  shining  black  horses  this  side  the  stone 
bridge  charging  the  fleeing  lines  of  blue;  they  see  shells 
whirling  like  huge  blackbirds  in  the  sky,  suddenly  falling 
among  the  skurrying  thousands;  they  see  a  shell  finally 
burst  on  the  bridge,  shiver  a  caisson  to  fragments,  and  then 
all  sign  of  organized  flight  comes  to  an  end. 

But  near  them,  meanwhile,  a  sullen  fire  replies  with  des- 
perate promptitude  to  the  rebel  shots. 

"  If  we  can  get  over  to  the  men  fighting  at  the  edge  of 
the  woods,  we  may  be  killed  or  captured,  but  we  won't  be 
disgraced ! "  Jack  cries. 

Again  they  make  a  wide  circuit  through  the  woods,  and 
now  the  firing  is  near  at  hand,  coming  slowly  toward  them. 
They  have  only  to  wait  and  they  will  be  among  the  forlorn 
hope.  Ah,  with  what  fervent  joy  Jack  marks  the  Union 
banner,  flapping  its  twin  streamers  among  the  hurtling 
pines!  They  are  near  it;  they  are  under  it!  Their  own 
guns  are  no  longer  available ;  hundreds  are  lying  at  hand ; 
they  seize  them.  The  line  is  firing  in  retreat.  It  is  a  sadly 
depleted  battalion  of  Keyes's  regulars,  steadfast,  impertur- 
bable, devoted.  A  handful  of  them  has  been  forgotten  or 
misdirected.  The  rebels,  uncertain  whether  it  was  not  a  trap 
to  snare  them,  move  with  caution,  while  fez-  to  the  left  a 
turning  column  is  hurrying  to  hem  the  Union  group  in  on 
every  side.  There  are  hardly  three  hundred  blue-coats  in 
the  mass,  but  their  volleys  are  so  swift,  so  regular,  so  steady  ; 
that  they  make  the  impression  of  a  thousand.  The  enemy 
felt  sure,  as  was  afterward  learned,  that  there  was  at  least  a 
regiment. 

A  young  captain,  soiled,  ragged,  his  sleeves  hanging  in 
ribbons,  the  whole  skirt  of  his  coat  gone,  moves  alertly,  com- 
posedly in  the  center,  seizing  a  gun  when  one  comes  handy 
on  the  ground,  where  there  are  plenty  scattered. 


104:  THE  IRON  GAME. 

"  Steady,  men,  steady !  We  shall  be  at  the  water's  edge, 
soon,  and  then  we  can  give  them  hell ! " 

Never  music  sounded  sweeter  in  Jack's  ear  than  that  jaunty 
epithet  "  hell "  !  How  inspiring !  How  little  of  the  ordinary 
association  the  word  brought  up !  Now  they  were  travers- 
ing slowly  the  very  ground  Jack  and  his  comrades  had  flown 
over  in  the  morning.  Still  firing— still  working  with  all 
his  heart  in  the  deadly  play,  Jack  sidles  to  the  officer  and 
cries  out : 

"  Captain,  I  know  a  ford  that  will  take  us  across  above 
the  stone  bridge.  We  discovered  it  this  morning.  Shall  I 
guide  that  way  ? " 

"  Guide  if  you  can ;  but  fire  like  seven  devils,  above  all ! " 
the  captain  cried,  seizing  two  or  three  pouches  lying  in  a 
mass  and  emptying  the  cartridges  into  his  pockets. 

"  There,  keep  to  the  left  sharp,  and  we  shall  come  to  a 
deep  gully  where  the  water  is  only  knee-deep,"  Jack  cries, 
also  replenishing  his  cartridge-box,  which  had  shrunk  under 
the  rapid  work  of  the  last  half-hour. 

"What  regiment  are  you,  sergeant?"  the  captain  cries, 
looking  for  a  moment  at  the  tattered  recruit. 

"Caribees  of  New  York,  Sherman's  brigade." 

"  And  how  came  you  off  here  ?  Your  brigade  was  near 
the  right  of  the  line  at  the  stone  bridge."  The  captain 
asked  this  with  a  shade  of  suspicion  in  his  voice. 

Jack  explained  his  mission,  and  the  officer,  who  had  been 
dealing  out  the  timely  windfall  of  ammunition,  nodded. 

"  Poor  Hunter  was  shot  early  in  the  advance.  It  would 
have  been  victory  to  our  flag  if  the  poor  old  fellow  had  been 
wounded  before  the  action  began.  He  lost  three  hours  in 
the  attack,  and  gave  the  rebels  a  chance  to  come  up  from 
Winchester." 

Now  Jack  understood  the  mysterious  legions  that  seemed 
to  spring  from  the  earth.  They  were  Johnston's  army  from 
the  Shenandoah. 

"  Keep  up  heart,  men ;  Burnside  and  Schenck  are  near  us 
somewhere.  They  are  in  reserve,  and  they'll  give  these  devils 
a  warm  welcome,  if  they  push  far  enough  after  us. " 


THE  LEGIONS  OF  VARUS.  105 

Then  the  steady  volleys  grew  swifter,  if  that  were  pos- 
sible, the  enemy  moving  steadily  after  the  slowly  retiring 
group.  But  now  there  is  a  clear  field  to  cross,  so  wide  that 
the  smallness  of  the  force  must  be  detected.  The  captain 
halts  the  line,  takes  his  bearings,  divides  the  little  army  into 
two  bodies,  orders  one  to  move  at  a  double-quick  directly 
across  the  open ;  the  rest  are  stretched  out  as  skirmishers, 
lie  retires  with  the  first  squad  across  the  field,  directing  the 
skirmishers  to  hold  the  ground  until  they  hear  three  musket- 
shots  from  the  wood  behind.  The  rebels  can  now  be  seen 
closing  in  very  near.  But  the  skirmish-line,  spreading  over 
a  wider  front,  evidently  perplexes  them,  and  they  halt.  The 
three  shots  are  presently  heard,  then  the  skirmish-line  flees 
in  groups  across  the  bare  downs,  the  vociferating  yells  of 
the  gray-coats  fairly  drowning  the  hideous  clamor  of  the 
muskets. 

"Ah!  we're  saved,"  a  lieutenant  cries,  waving  his  cap  like 
a  madman.  "  Look !  there  are  men  in  the  wood  yonder,  to 
our  right;  they  are  coming  this  way ! " 

Jack  turned,  he  was  near  the  captain ;  and  he  marked, 
with  deadly  panic,  a  look  of  despair  settle  down  on  the 
heroic,  handsome  face.  What  could  it  mean?  Didn't  he 
believe  that  there  were  men  there  ?  Jack  handed  him  his 
own  glass — the  captain  had  none. 

"  By  Heaven,  our  flag !  But  what  troops  can  they  be  in 
that  quarter  ?  They  must  be  surrounded,  like  ourselves. — 
Sergeant,  can  you  undertake  a  dangerous  duty  ? " 

"  With  all  my  heart,"  Jack  cried,  heartily. 

"  What's  your  name  and  company  ? " 

"John  Sprague,  Caribees,  Company  K." 

;'  Slip  around  the  edge  of  the  skirt  of  bushes.  You'll  be 
v/ithin  an  arm's  length  of  the  enemy  all  the  way.  Reach  the 
place  where  we  saw  those  men  a  moment  since.  When  you  get 
there,  if  they  are  friendly,  fire  a  shot.  Here,  take  this  pistol. 
Fire  that ;  I  shall  recognize  it  from  the  musketry.  If  they 
are  the  enemy,  fire  all  the  barrels  as  fast  as  you  can  and 
retreat.  You  run  great  danger ;  you  can  only  by  a  miracle 
escape  capture;  but  it  is  our  only  resource  for  the  next 


106  THE   IROX   GAME. 

charge.  We  must  surrender  or  die,"  he  added,  looking1 
wofully  at  the  meager  remnant  of  his  company.  Before  the 
words  had  fairly  ended,  Jack  is  off  like  a  shot,  forgetting 
Barney,  forgetting  everything  but  the  extrication  of  this 
grand  young  Roman.  As  he  skurried  along,  sometimes  on 
hands  and  knees,  he  blames  himself  for  not  learning  the 
captain's  name.  He  feels  sure  that  a  day  will  come  when 
the  world  will  know  and  admire  it.  He  has  gained  the 
other  corner,  and  in  a  moment  he  will  be  in  the  thick  copse 
where  the  Union  flag  had  been  seen,  but  as  he  makes  a  dash 
through  a  clump  of  laurel  he  is  confronted  by  two  men, 
muskets  in  hand. 

"  A  Yank,  by  the  Lord !    Surrender,  you  damned  mudsill !  " 

For  answer  Jack  raised  the  pistol  in  his  hand  and  fired. 
The  man  fell,  with  a  frightful  yell.  The  other  leveled  his 
musket  fairly  in  Jack's  face ;  but  before  he  could  pull  the 
trigger  a  report  at  his  ear  deafened  Jack,  and  the  second 
man  staggered  against  the  tree. 

"  Ah,  ha !  me  boy,  the  rear  rank  did  the  best  work  there," 
Barney  cried,  as  Jack  turned  to  see  whence  the  timely  aid 
had  come.  "  A  day  after  the  fair's  better  than  the  fair  itself, 
if  the  rain  has  kept  the  girls  away,"  and  Barney  laughed 
good-humoredly. 

"  Well,  'pon  my  soul,  Barney,  it's  a  shameful  thing  to  say, 
but  all  thought  of  you  had  gone  from  my  mind.  I  should 
not  have  let  you  come  if  you  had  proposed  it,  but  now  we're 
in  for  it.  Ah!" 

As  he  spoke  the  Union  flag  he  had  seen  came  forward, 
but  it  was  in  the  hands  of  a  rebel  bearer,  and  was  upside 
down  in  mockery.  The  sight  was  enough.  He  fired  the 
shots  as  agreed  upon,  firing  two  at  the  group  marching  heed- 
lessly forward,  as  the  skirmish-line  was  far  ahead,  or  they 
supposed  it  was,  for  the  two  men  disabled  by  Jack  and  Bar- 
ney were  the  advance,  as  it  was  not  supposed  that  any  but 
stragglers  were  near  at  hand,  and  the  company  were  return- 
ing to  their  regiment.  In  an  instant  a  fierce  volley  is  re- 
turned, and  Barney,  who  is  fairly  in  the  bush  behind  a  huge 
tree,  hears  a  low  groan.  He  looks  where  Jack  had  been  and 


THE  LEGIONS  OF  VARUS.  107 

sees  him  lying  on  the  ground,  stifling  an  agonized  cry  by 
holding  his  left  arm  over  his  mouth.  Barney  might  have 
escaped,  at  least  he  might  have  delayed  capture,  hut  coming 
from  behind  the  tree,  he  holds  up  his  hands,  and  flinging 
himself  on  the  ground  beside  his  comrade  takes  his  head  upon 
his  knee  and  awaits  the  worst. 


BOOK  II. 
THE  HOSTAGES. 


CHAPTER  XII. 

THE  AFTERMATH. 

THERE  were  not  so  many  millions  of  Americans  in  1861 
as  there  are  to-day.  But  they  were  more  American  then 
than  they  are  now.  That  is,  the  Old  World  had  not  sent  the 
millions  to  our  shores  that  now  people  the  waste  places  of 
the  West.  It  was  not  until  after  the  civil  war  that  those 
prodigious  hosts  came — enough  to  make  the  populace  of 
such  empires  as  fill  the  largest  space  in  history.  That  part 
of  the  land  that  loved  the  flag  cherished  it  with  a  fervor 
deeper  than  the  half -alien  race  that  first  flung  it  to  the  breeze 
under  Washington.  They  loved  the  republic  with  some- 
thing of  that  passionate  idolatry  that  made  the  Greek's  ideal 
joy — death  for  the  fatherland  ;  some  of  th'at  burning  zeal 
and  godlike  pride  that  made  the  earlier  Roman  esteem  his 
citizenship  more  precious  than  a  foreign  crown.  But  until 
the  battle  on  that  awful  21st  of  July  proved  the  war  real — 
with  the  added  horror  of  civil  hate— Secretary  Seward's  epi- 
gram of  ninety  days  clung  fast  in  the  public  mind. 

Up  to  Bull  Run  there  was  a  vague  feeling  that  our  army, 
in  proper  time,  would  march  down  upon  the  rebels  like  the 
hosts  of  Joshua,  and  scatter  them  and  the  rebellion  to  utter- 
most destruction  in  one  action.  It  was  upon  this  assump- 
tion that  the  journals  of  the  North  satirized,  abused,  vilified 
Scott,  and  clamored  day  by  day  for  an  "  advance  upon  Rich- 
mond." The  damnation  of  public  clamor,  and  not  the  in- 
competency  of  the  general,  set  the  inchoate  armies  of  Scott 


THE  AFTERMATH.  109 

upon  that  fatal  adventure.  But  that  humiliating,  incredible, 
and  for  years  misunderstood  Sunday,  on  the  plateaus  of  Ma- 
nassas,  where,  after  all,  blundering  and  imbecility  brought 
disaster,  but  not  shame,  upon  the  devoted  soldiery,  aroused 
the  sense  of  the  North  to  the  reality  of  war,  as  the  overthrow 
at  Jemmapes  in  1793  convinced  the  Prussian  oligarchy  that 
the  republic  in  France  was  a  fact. 

It  was  a  dreadful  Monday  in  the  North  when  the  first 
hideous  bulletins  were  sent  broadcast  through  the  cities  and 
carried  by  couriers  into  every  hamlet.  For  hours— sick- 
ening hours — it  was  not  believed.  We  have  awakened  many 
a  morning  since  1861  to  hear  of  thrones  overturned,  armies 
vanquished,  dynasties  obliterated  ;  to  hear  of  great  men 
gone  by  sudden  and  cruel  death  :  but  the  anger  and  despair 
when  Booth's  cruel  work  was  known  ;  the  shuddering  hor- 
ror over  Garfield's  taking  off  ;  the  amazement  when  the 
hand  of  Nihilism  laid  an  emperor  dead  ;  the  overthrow  of 
Austria  in  a  single  day  ;  the  extinction  of  the  Bonapartes — 
these  things  were  heard  and  digested  with  something  like 
repose  compared  to  the  bewildering  outbreak  that  met  the 
destruction  of  our  army  at  Manassas. 

It  was  not  the  dazed,  panic-stricken,  panic  anguish  that 
followed  Fredericksburg  or  the  second  Bull  Run.  It  was 
not  the  indignant,  fretful  wrath  that  rebuked  official  culpa- 
bility for  the  destruction  of  the  grand  campaign  on  the  Pen- 
insula. It  was  a  startled,  incredulous,  angry  amazement,  in 
which  blame  afterward  visited  upon  generals  or  Cabinet, 
was  humbly  taken  on  the  people's  shoulders  and  echoed  in 
a  moaning  mea  culpa.  For  days  all  the  people  were  close 
kin.  In  the  streets  strangers  talked  to  strangers  ;  the  pulpit 
echoed  the  inextinguishable  wrath  of  the  streets  ;  the  jour- 
nals, for  a  moment  restrained  into  solemnity,  echoed  for 
once  the  real  voice  of  an  elevated  humanity  and  not  the 
drivel  of  partisanship  nor  the  ulterior  purposes  of  wealth 
and  sham.  Even  schoolboys,  arrested  in  the  merry-making 
of  youth,  looked  in  wonder  at  the  sudden  reversal  of  con- 
ditions. Boys  well  remember  in  the  school  that  Monday, 
when  the  northern  heavens  were  hung  in  black  and  grief 


HO  THE  IRON  GAME. 

wrung  its  crystal  tresses  in  the  air,  the  master  began  the 
work  of  the  day  with  a  brief,  pathetic  review  of  the  public 
agony,  and  dismissed  the  classes  that  he  was  too  agitated  to 
instruct.  There  were  no  games  on  the  greensward,  no  swim- 
ming in  the  river,  no  excursion  to  the  Malvern  cherry  groves. 
The  streets  were  filled  with  blank  faces  and  whispering 
crowds  unable  to  endure  the  restraint  of  routine  or  the  ordi- 
nary callings  of  life.  Parties  were  obliterated,  or  rather 
from  the  flux  of  this  white  heat,  came  out  in  solidified  unity 
that  compact  of  parties  which  for  four  years  breathed  the 
breath  of  the  nation's  life,  spoke  the  purposes  of  the  republic, 
and  amid  stupendous  reverses  and  triumphs  held  the  public 
conscience  clear  in  its  sublime  duty.  The  woes  of  bereave- 
ment were  not  wide-spread  ;  the  killed  at  Manassas  were 
hardly  more  than  we  read  of  now  in  a  disaster  at  sea  or  a 
catastrophe  in  the  mines.  The  whole  army  engaged  hardly 
outnumbered  the  slaughtered  at  Antietam,  Gettysburg,  or 
Burnside's  butchery  at  St.  Mary's  Hill. 

Hence  the  marvel  of  the  instant  fusion,  the  swift  resolve 
of  the  Northern  mind.  The  battle  was  the  sudden  grapple 
of  aggressive  weakness — catching  the  half  -  contemptuous 
strong  man  unaware  and  rolling  him  in  the  dust.  Brought 
to  earth  by  this  unlooked-for  blow,  the  North  arose  with  re- 
newed force  and  the  deathless  determination  that  could  have 
but  one  issue.  The  people,  when  the  benumbing  force  of 
the  surprise  was  mastered,  flew  together  with  one  mind,  one 
voice,  one  impulse.  The  churches,  the  public  halls,  the 
street  corners,  moving  trains,  and  rushing  steamers,  were 
such  hustings  as  the  Athenian  improvised  in  the  porticoes, 
when  her  orators  inflamed  the  heart  of  Greece  to  repel  the 
barbarians,  to  die  with  Leonidas  in  the  gorges  of  the  Ther- 
mopylae. 

Ah,  what  an  imposing  spectacle  it  was!  The  blood  of 
wrath  leaped  fiercely  in  the  chilled  veins  of  age ;  the  ardor 
of  youth  became  the  delirium  of  the  Crusaders,  the  lofty 
zeal  of  the  Puritans,  the  chivalrous  daring  of  Rupert's  troop- 
ers, and  the  Dutch  devotees  of  Orange.  A  half-million  men 
had  been  called  out ;  a  million  were  waiting  in  passionate 


THE   AFTERMATH.  HI 

eagerness  within  a  month ;  two  hundred  and  fifty  millions 
of  money  had  been  voted — ten  times  that  amount  was  offered 
in  a  day.  Every  interest  in  life  became  suddenly  centered 
in  one  duty — war.  It  touched  the  heart  of  the  whole  people, 
and  for  the  time  they  arose,  purified,  contrite,  as  the  armies 
of  Moses  under  the  chastening  of  the  rod. 

In  Acredale  there  were  sore  hearts  as  the  dreadful  news 
became  more  and  more  definite.  For  days  the  death  lists 
were  mere  guess-work ;  but  when  the  routed  forces  returned 
to  their  camps  in  Washington  the  awful  gaps  in  the  ranks 
were  ascertained  with  certainty.  The  Caribees  were  nearly 
obliterated.  Of  the  thousand  men  and  over  who  had  marched 
from  Meridian  Hill  only  four  hundred  were  found  ten  days 
after  the  battle.  Elisha  Boone  had  hurried  at  once  to  Wash- 
ington, charged  by  all  the  fathers,  mothers,  brothers,  and 
sisters  of  the  regiment  to  make  swift  report  of  the  absent 
darlings.  Kate  was  besieged  in  the  grand  house  with  tear- 
ful watchers,  waiting  in  agonizing  impatience  for  the  fatal 
finality.  Olympia,  to  spare  her  mother  the  distress  of  the 
vague  responses  her  telegrams  brought  from  Washington, 
spent  most  of  the  time  at  the  Boones',  where,  thanks  to  the 
father's  high  standing  with  the  Administration,  the  earliest, 
most  accurate  information  came.  Finally  he  wrote.  He 
had  seen  Nick  Marsh,  who  gave  the  first  coherent  narrative 
of  Jack,  Barney,  and  Dick  Perley.  They  had  been  seen — 
the  first  two  in  the  last  desperate  conflict.  An  officer  (the 
hero  whom  Jack  had  so  much  admired,  and  who  turned  out 
to  be  Gouverneur  K.  Warren)  had  escaped  from  the  forlorn 
hope  left  to  dispute  the  rebel  charge  upon  the  flying  col- 
umns. He  gave  particulars  that  pointed  with  heart-break- 
ing certainty  to  the  death  of  the  two  boys.  Young  Perley 
had  been  lost  sight  of  since  noon  of  the  battle.  He  had  fol- 
lowed the  path  taken  by  Jack  and  his  comrades  across  the 
flank  of  the  enemy.  He  had  been  seen  at  Heintzelman's 
headquarters,  but  after  that  no  one  could  trace  him.  Wes- 
ley, too,  had  been  left  near  the  stone  bridge  with  a  ball  in 
either  his  arm  or  thigh,  the  informant  was  not  quite  sure 
which,  as  he  fell  in  a  charge  of  the  line.  Boone  telegraphed 
8 


112  THE   IRON   GAME. 

to  Kate  that  he  was  going  through  the  lines  with  a  flag  of 
truce  so  soon  as  the  affair  could  be  regulated,  and  proffered 
his  best  offices  for  the  Acredale  victims. 

Everything  had  been  prepared  by  Olyinpia  and  her 
mother  for  an  instant  departure  so  soon  as  positive  informa- 
tion came.  With  them  Marcia  Perley  went,  trembling  and 
tearful,  and  Telemachus  Twigg,  to  extricate  his  son  from 
danger,  for  it  was  uncertain  what  his  status  was  in  the 
forces.  Kate,  too,  joined  the  melancholy  pilgrimage  that 
set  out  one  morning  followed  to  the  station  by  weeping  kins- 
men imploring  the  good  offices  of  these  ambassadors  of  woe. 
The  sleeping-car  gave  the  miserable  company  seclusion,  if 
not  rest.  They  were  not  the  only  ones  in  quest  of  the  miss- 
ing, for  as  yet  there  was  no  certainty  as  to  the  fate  of  those 
left  on  the  field  of  battle.  Later  reports  had  been  more  en- 
couraging, for  hundreds  who  were  set  down  as  prisoners  or 
missing  began  to  be  heard  from  as  far  northward  as  the 
Maryland  line.  In  the  station  at  Washington  Boone  met 
his  daughter.  Twigg  hurried  to  him  and  asked : 

"  Any  further  news,  Mr.  Boone  ?  We're  all  here— about 
half  Acredale." 

"  Yes,  I  see ;  but  there  is  no  more  news  of  the  Caribees. 
We  learn  that  the  wounded  have  been  sent  to  Richmond, 
and  I  shall  set  out  for  there  to-morrow." 

Mrs.  Sprague,  with  Olympia  and  Merry,  drove  to  the 
house  of  a  friend  she  had  known  years  before,  whose  hus- 
band was  a  Senator.  The  Boones — or  rather  Kate — bade 
them  a  cordial  adieu  as  they  drove  off  to  the  National  Hotel. 

Then  the  most  trying  part  of  the  quest  began.  The  War 
Department  was  besieged  with  applicants,  mostly  women. 
Orders  had  been  issued  to  forbid  all  crossing  the  lines,  and 
the  despairing  kinsfolk  of  the  lost  were  in  a  panic  of  im- 
patient terror.  In  vain  Olympia  called  upon  eminent  Sena- 
tors who  had  been  friends  of  her  father;  in  vain  she  in- 
voked the  aid  of  the  Secretary  of  State,  who  had  been  the 
family's  guest  at  Acredale.  Once  she  penetrated,  by  the  aid 
of  strong  letters,  to  the  Secretary  of  War.  He  was  sur- 
rounded by  a  hurried  throng  of  orderlies,  officers,  and  clerks, 


THE   AFTERMATH.  113 

and  even  after  she  had  been  admitted  to  his  office  Olympia 
was  left  unnoticed  on  a  settee,  waiting  some  sign  to  approach 
the  dreaded  presence.  His  imperious  and  abrupt  manner, 
his  alternation  of  deferential  concern  for  some  and  disdain- 
ful impatience  for  others,  gave  her  small  hope  that  he  would 
heed  her  prayer.  She  waited  hours,  sitting  in  the  crowded 
room,  ill  from  the  oppressive  air,  the  fixed  stare  of  the  offi- 
cers, and  the  sobbing  of  others  like  herself  waiting  a  word 
with  the  autocrat.  At  length,  late  in  the  afternoon,  when 
the  crowd  had  quite  gone,  she  heard  the  Secretary  say  in  an 
undertone : 

"Send  an  orderly  to  those  women  and  see  what  they 
want." 

Each  of  the  waiting  women  handed  credentials  to  the 
young  man,  and  each  iii  turn  arose  trembling  and  stood  be- 
fore the  decisive  official  at  the  great,  paper-strewn  desk. 
There  was  no  attempt  to  soften  the  refusal,  as  he  turned 
curtly  from  the  pleaders  ;  and  Olympia,  shrinking  from  the 
ordeal,  was  about  to  step  out  of  the  room,  when  a  tall,  care- 
worn man  shambled  in,  glancing  pityingly  at  her  as  she 
arose,  half  trembling,  recognizing  the  President. 

She  stepped  in  front  of  him  in  a  desperate  impulse,  and, 
throwing  up  her  veil,  cried  piteously : 

"O  Mr.  Lincoln,  you  are  a  father,  you  have  a  tender 
heart ;  you  will  listen  to  the  bereaved ! "  He  stopped,  look- 
ing at  her  kindly,  and  put  his  left  arm  wearily  on  the  desk 
by  his  side. 

"  Yes,  my  poor  girl,  I  am  a  father  and  have  a  heart ;  the 
more's  the  pity,  for  just  now  something  else  is  needed  in  its 
place.  I  suppose  your  father  is  over  yonder,"  and  he  nod- 
ded toward  the  Virginia  shore. 

"O  Mr.  Lincoln,  my  father  is  farther  away  than  that. 
My  father  was  Senator  Sprague — you  served  with  him  in 
Congress— I — I — thought  that  perhaps  you  might  take  pity 
on  his  widow,  his  daughter,  his  son,  if  the  poor  boy  is  still 
living,  and — and—" 

"  Send  you  across  the  lines  ? " 

"  Oh,  if  God  would  put  it  in  your  heart ! " 


114  THE   IRON   GAME. 

"  It's  in  my  heart  fast  enough,  my  poor  child,  but — ' 

"  Impossible,  Mr.  President !  The  enemy,  as  it  is,  can 
open  a  Sabine  campaign  on  us,  and  tie  our  hands  by  stretch- 
ing Northern  women  out  in  a  line  of  battle  between  the 
ranks  !" 

It  was  the  weary,  discouraging  voice  of  the  Secretary, 
imperiously  implying  that  the  Executive  must  not  interpose 
weakness  and  mercy  where  Draconian  rigor  sat  enthroned. 
The  President  smiled  sadly. 

"  Ah,  Mr.  Secretary,  a  sister— a  mother — give  a  great  deal 
for  the  country.  We  can  not  err  much  in  granting  their 
prayer.  Make  out  an  order — for  whom  ? " 

Olympia,  speechless  with  gratitude — reverence— could 
hardly  articulate : 

"My  mother,  myself,  and  Miss  Marcia  Perley." 

"  Another  mother  ? " 

"  Her  boy  is  not  of  age,  and  ran  away  to  join  my  brother's 
company."  She  had  a  woman's  presence  of  mind  to  answer 
with  this  diplomatic  evasion. 

"  I'm  afraid  you  will  only  add  to  your  distress,  my  poor 
child ;  but  you  shall  go."  He  inclined  his  head  benignantly 
and  passed  into  the  inner  sanctuary  behind  the  rail,  when 
Olympia  heard  the  Secretary  say,  grimly: 

"  I  shall  take  measures  to  stop  this  sort  of  thing,  Mr.  Presi- 
dent. Hereafter  you  shall  only  come  to  this  department  at 
certain  hours.  At  all  other  times  the  doors  shall  be  guarded." 

A  gray-haired  man  in  undress  uniform  presently  ap- 
peared, and  as  he  handed  Olympia  the  large  official  enve- 
lope he  said,  respectfully: 

"You  never  heard  of  me,  Miss  Sprague  ?  Many  years 
ago  the  Senator,  your  father,  did  a  kind  turn  for  my  brother 
— an  employe  in  the  Treasury.  If  I  can  be  of  any  aid  to  you 
in  this  painful  business,  pray  give  me  a  chance  to  show  a 
kindness  to  the  family  of  a  great  and  good  man.  My  name 
is  Charles  Bevan,  and  it  is  signed  to  one  of  the  papers  in  this 
letter." 

Within  an  hour  all  was  ready,  but  they  could  not  set  out 
until  the  next  morning,  when,  by  eight  o'clock,  the  three 


THE   AFTERMATH.  115 

ladies  were  en  route.  There  was  a  large  company  with 
them,  all  under  a  flag  of  truce.  They  passed  through  the 
long  lines  of  soldiery  that  lay  intrenched  on  the  Virginia  side 
of  the  Potomac,  and  pushed  on  to  Annandale,  where  the 
rebel  outpost  received  them.  Olympia's  eyes  dwelt  011  the 
wide-stretching  lands  of  pine  and  oak,  remembering  the 
pictures  Jack  had  given  in  his  letters  of  this  very  same  route. 
But  there  were  few  signs  of  war.  The  cleared  places  lay  red 
and  baking  under  the  hot  August  sun ;  the  trees  seemed  crisp 
and  sapless. 

At  Fairfax  Court-House,  where  the  first  signs  of  real  war- 
like tenure  were  seen,  the  visitors  were  taken  into  a  low 
frame  house,  and  each  in  turn  asked  to  explain  the  objects  of 
her  mission.  Then  the  hospital  reports  were  searched.  In 
half  a  dozen  or  more  instances  the  sad-eyed  mothers  were 
thrown  into  tremulous  hope  by  the  tidings  of  their  darlings' 
whereabouts.  But  for  Olympia  and  Aunt  Merry  there  was 
no  clew.  No  such  names  as  Sprague  or  Perley  were  recorded 
in  the  fateful  pages  of  the  hospital  corps.  But  there  were 
several  badly  wounded  in  the  hospital  at  Mauassas,  where 
fuller  particulars  were  accessible. 

They  were  conducted  very  politely  by  a  young  lieutenant 
in  a  shabby  gray  uniform  to  an  ambulance  and  driven  four 
miles  southward  to  Fairfax  Station  on  the  railway,  when, 
after  despairing  hours  of  waiting,  they  were  taken  by  train 
to  Manassas.  An  orderly  accompanied  them,  and  'as  the 
train  passed  beyond  Union  Mills,  where  the  Bull  Run  River 
runs  along  the  railway  a  mile  or  more  before  crossing  under 
it,  the  young  soldier  pointed  out  the  distant  plateau,  near  the 
famous  stone  bridge,  and,  when  the  train  crossed  the  river, 
the  high  bluffs,  a  half-mile  to  the  northward,  where  the  ac- 
tion had  begun  at  Blackburn's  Ford.  He  was  very  respect- 
ful and  gentle  in  alluding  to  the  battle,  and  said,  ingenuous- 
ly, pointing  to  the  plateau  jutting  out  from  the  Bull  Run 
Mountains : 

"  At  two  o'clock  on  Sunday  we  would  have  cried  quits  to 
McDowell  to  hold  his  ground  and  let  us  alone.  But  just  as 
we  were  on  our  heel  to  turn,  Joe  Johnston  came  piling  in 


116  THE   IRON   GAME. 

here,  right  where  you  see  that  gully  yonder,  with  ten  thou- 
sand fresh  men,  and  in  twenty  minutes  we  were  three  to  one, 
and  then  your  folks  had  the  worst  of  it.  President  Davis  got 
off  the  train  at  the  junction  yonder,  and  as  he  rode  across 
this  field,  where  we  are  now,  the  woods  yonder  were  full  of 
our  men,  flying  from  the  Henry  House  Hill,  where  Sherman 
had  cut  General  Bee's  brigade  to  pieces  and  was  routing 
Jackson — '  Stonewall,'  we  call  him  now,  because  General 
Bonham,  when  he  brought  up  the  reserves,  shouted,  'See, 
there,  where  Jackson  stands  like  a  stone  wall ! '  He's  a  college 
professor  and  very  pious;  he  makes  his  men  pray  before 
fighting,  and  has  '  meetings '  in  the  commissary  tent  twice  a 
week." 

"  Did  Mr.  Davis  join  in  the  battle? "  Olympia  asked,  more 
to  seem  interested  in  the  garrulous  warrior's  narrative  than 
because  she  really  had  her  mind  on  the  story. 

"  Oh,  dear,  no.  Old  Johnston  had  finished  the  job  before 
the  President  (Olympia  noticed  that  all  Southerners  dwelt 
upon  this  title  with  complacent  insistence)  could  reach  the 
field.  He  was  barely  in  time  to  see  the  cavalry  of  'Jeb' 
Stuart  charge  the  regulars  on  the  Warrentou  road." 

The  train  came  to  a  halt,  and  the  young  man  said,  cheer- 
fully: 

"  Here  we  are.  The  hospital's  still  right  smart  over  yon- 
der in  the  trees." 

"  But  you  will  go  with  us,  will  you  not  ? "  Olympia  asked 
in  alarm,  for  it  was  wearing  toward  night. 

"  Oh,  yes ;  I'm  detailed  to  remain  with  you  until  you  have 
found  out  about  your  kinsfolk." 

In  the  mellow  sunset  the  three  women  followed  the 
orderly  across  the  fields  strewed  with  armaments,  supplies, 
and  the  rough  depot  paraphernalia  of  an  army  at  rest.  The 
hospital  consisted  of  a  large  tent  for  the  slightly  hurt,  and  a 
few  old  buildings  and  a  barn  for  the  more  serious  cases.  The 
search  was  futile.  There  were  two  or  three  of  the  Caribees 
in  the  place,  but  they  knew  nothing  of  their  missing  com- 
rades. Indeed,  Jack's  detail  by  Colonel  Sherman  had  effect- 
ually cut  off  all  trace  of  his  movements  after  the  battle  began. 


THE   AFTERMATH.  117 

Mrs.  Sprague's  tears  were  falling  softly  as  the  orderly  led 
them  to  the  surgeon's  office.  They  were  there  shown  the 
records  of  all  who  had  been  buried  on  the  field.  Many,  he 
informed  them,  sympathetically,  had  been  buried  where  they 
fell,  in  great  ditches  dug  by  the  sappers.  In  every  case  the 
garments  had  been  stripped  from  the  bodies  before  burial,  so 
that  there  was  absolutely  no  means  of  identification.  Most 
of  the  wounded  had,  however,  been  sent  to  Richmond  with 
the  prisoners.  "  It  would  not  do,"  he  added,  kindly,  "  to  give 
up  all  hope  of  the  lost  ones,  until  they  had  seen  the  roster  of 
the  prisoners  and  the  wounded  in  the  Richmond  prisons  and 
hospitals." 

Quarters  were  given  to  them  in  a  tent  put  at  their  disposal 
by  the  surgeons,  and  in  the  long,  wakeful  hours  of  the  night 
Olympia  heard  the  guard  pacing  monotonously  before  the 
door.  The  music  of  the  bugles  aroused  them  at  sunrise — a 
wan,  haggard  group,  sad-eyed  and  silent.  The  girl  made 
desperate  efforts  to  cheer  the  wretched  mother,  and  even 
privily  took  Merry  to  task  for  giving  way  before  what  was 
as  yet  but  a  shadow.  'Twould  be  time  enough  for  tears  when 
they  found  evidence  that  the  stout,  vigorous  boys  had  been 
killed.  As  they  finished  the  very  plain  breakfast  of  half- 
baked  bread,  pea-coffee,  and  eggs,  bought  by  the  orderly  at  an 
exorbitant  rate,  he  said,  good-naturedly: 

"The  train  don't  come  till  about  ten  o'clock.  If  you'd 
like  to  see  the  battle-field,  I  can  get  the  ambulance  and  take 
you  over." 

Olympia  eagerly  assented — anything  was  preferable  to 
this  mute  misery  of  her  mother  and  Merry's  sepulchral 
struggles  to  be  conversational  and  tearless.  They  drove 
through  bewildering  numbers  of  tents,  most  of  them,  Olym- 
pia's  sharp  eyes  noted,  marked  "  U.  S.  A.,"  and  she  reflected, 
almost  angrily,  that  the  chief  part  of  war,  after  all,  was  pil- 
lage. .The  men  looked  shabby,  and  the  uniforms  were  as 
varied  as  a  carnival,  though  by  no  means  so  gay.  Whenever 
they  crossed  a  stream,  which  was  not  seldom,  groups  of  men 
were  standing  in  the  water  to  their  middle,  washing  their 
clothing,  very  much  as  Olympia  had  seen  the  washer-women 


118  THE   IRON   GAME. 

on  the  Continent,  in  Europe.  They  were  very  merry,  even 
boisterous  in  this  unaccustomed  work,  responding  to  rough 
jests  by  resounding  slashes  of  the  tightly  wrung  garments 
upon  the  heads  or  backs  of  the  unwary  wags. 

"  Why,  there  must  be  a  million  men  here,"  Merry  cried, 
as  the  tents  stretched  for  miles,  as  far  as  she  could  see. 

"No;  not  quite  a  million,  I  reckon,"  the  orderly  said, 
proudly ;  "  but  we  shall  have  a  million  when  we  march  on 
Washington. ' ' 

"  March  on  Washington ! "  Merry  gasped,  as  though  it 
was  an  official  order  she  had  just  heard  promulgated.  "  But 
— but — we  aren't  ready  yet.  We — "  Then  she  halted  in 
dismay.  Was  she  giving  information  to  the  enemy  ?  Would 
they  instantly  make  use  of  it  ?  Ah !  she  must,  at  any  cost, 
undo  this  fatal  treason,  big  with  disaster  to  the  republic.  ''  I 
mean  we  are  not  ready  yet  to  put  our  many  million  men  on 
the  march." 

The  orderly  laughed.  "  I  reckon  your  many  million  will 
be  ready  as  soon  as  our  one  million.  You  know  we  have  a 
big  country  to  cover  with  them.  You  folks  have  only  Wash- 
ington to  guard  and  Richmond  to  take.  We  have  the  Missis- 
sippi and  fifteen  hundred  miles  of  coast  to  guard.  Now,  this 
corner  is  Newmarket,  where  Johnston  waited  for  his  troops  on 
Sunday  and  led  them  right  along  the  road  we  are  on — to  the 
pine  wood  yonder — just  noi'tb  of  us.  We  won't  go  through 
there,  because  we  ain't  making  a  flank  movement,"  and  he 
laughed  pleasantly.  They  drove  on  at  a  rapid  rate  as  they 
came  upon  the  southern  shelf  of  the  Mansassas  plateau. 

"  This,"  the  orderly  said,  pointing  to  a  small  stone  build- 
ing in  a  bare  and  ragged  waste  of  trees,  shrubs,  and  ruined 
implements  of  war,  "  is  the  Henry  House — what  is  left  of  it 
— the  key  of  our  position  when  Jackson  formed  his  stone 
wall  facing  toward  the  northwest,  over  there  where  your 
folks  very  cleverly  flanked  us  and  waited  an  hour  or  two, 
Heaven  only  knows  what  for,  unless  it  was  to  give  us  time 
to  bring  up  our  re-enforcements.  Your  officers  lay  the  blame 
on  Burnside  and  Hunter,  who,  they  declare,  just  sat  still 
half  the  day,  while  Sherman  got  in  behind  us  and  would 


THE   AFTERMATH.  119 

have  captured  every  man  Jack  of  our  fellows,  if  Johnston 
hadn't  come  up,  whei-e  I  showed  you,  in  the  very  nick  of 
time." 

The  women  were  looking  eagerly  at  the  field  of  death. 
It  was  still  as  on  the  day  of  the  battle,  save  that  instead  of 
the  thousands  of  beating  hearts,  the  flaunting  flags,  and 
roaring  guns,  there  were  countless  ridges  torn  in  the  sod,  as 
if  a  plow  had  run  through  at  random,  limbs  and  trees  torn 
down  and  whirled  across  each  other,  broken  wheels,  musket 
stocks  and  barrels,  twisted  and  sticking,  gaunt  and  eloquent, 
in  the  tough,  grassy  fiber  of  the  earth. 

"  In  this  circle  of  a  mile  and  a  half  fifty  thousand  men 
pelted  each  other  from  two  o'clock  that  Sunday  morning 
until  four  in  the  afternoon.  Up  to  two  o'clock  we  were  on 
the  defensive.  We  were  driven  from  the  broad,  smooth 
road  yonder  that  you  see  cutting  through  the  trees,  north- 
ward a  mile  from  here.  Jackson  alone  made  a  stand ;  if  it 
hadn't  been  for  him  we  should  have  been  prisoners  in  Wash- 
ington now,  I  reckon.  You  see  those  men  at  work  ?  They 
are  picking  up  lead.  We  reckon  that  it  takes  a  ton  of  lead 
to  kill  a  man." 

"  A  ton  of  lead  ?  "  Olympia  repeated. 

"  Yes.  You  wouldn't  believe  that  thousands  of  men  can 
stand  in  front  of  each  other  a  whole  day  and  pour  lead  into 
each  other's  faces,  and  not  one  in  fifty  is  hit  ? " 

"  Ah ! "  Olyrapia  commented,  thinking  that,  after  all, 
Jack  might  not  have  been  hit. 

"  These  are  the  trenches  of  the  dead.  Our  dead  are  not 
here.  They  were  all  taken  and  sent  to  friends.  There  are 
five  hundred  of  your  dead  here  and  near  the  stone  bridge 
yonder.  We  lost  three  hundred  killed  in  the  fight." 

"  And  are  there  no  other  marks  than  this  plain  board  ? " 
Olympia  pointed  to  a  rough  pine  plank,  sticking  loosely  in 
the  ground,  with  the  words  painted  in  lampblack:  "85 
Yanks.  By  the  Hospital  Corps,  Bee's  Brigade." 

"  That's  all.  They  were  all  stripped — no  means  of  identi- 
fying them.  The  sun  was  very  hot;  the  rain  next  day  made 
the  bodies  rot,  and  the  men  had  to  just  shovel  them,  in — " 


120  fHElRON   GAME. 


"Oh,  oh!  don't,  pray  don't  >''  Olympia  cried,  as  her 
mother  tottered  against  the  ambulance. 

"  I  ask  your  pardon,  ladies ;  I  forgot  that  these  are  "not 
things  for  ladies  to  hear."  He  spoke  in  sincere  contrition. 

To  relieve  him  Olympia  smiled  sadly,  saying,  "Won't 
you  take  us  back,  please  ?  "• 

The  ambulance  drove  on  into  the  Warrenton  pike,  and, 
if  Olympia  had  known  it,  within  a  stone's-throw  of  Jack's 
last  effort,  where  the  cavalry  picket  came  upon  him.  It  was 
noon  when  they  reached  the  station.  The  orderly  returned 
the  ambulance  to  the  hospital,  brought  down  the  luggage, 
and  the  three  women  made  a  luncheon  of  fruit  and  dry 
bread,  declining  the  orderly's  invitation  to  eat  at  the  hospi- 
tal. The  train  came  on  three  hours  late.  It  was  filled  with 
military  men,  most  of  them  officers;  but  so  soon  as  the 
orderly  entered  the  rear  coach,  ushering  in  his  charges,  two 
or  three  young  men  with  official  insignia  on  their  collars 
arose  with  alacrity  and  begged  the  ladies  to  take  the  vacant 
places.  At  Bristow  Station  many  of  the  officers  got  out  and 
a  number  of  civilians  entered  from  the  coach  ahead  and  took 
their  places.  Mrs.  Sprague,  worn  out  by  the  fatigue  of  the 
journey  and  the  strain  upon  her  mind,  quite  broke  down  in 
the  hot,  ill-ventilated  car.  There  was  no  water  to  be  had, 
and  Olympia  turned  inquiringly  to  the  person  opposite  her, 
asking: 

"  Could  we  possibly  get  any  water — my  mother  is  very 
much  overcome  ? " 

"  Certainly,  madam.  There  must  be  plenty  of  canteens  on 
the  train.  I  will  bring  you  some  in  a  moment." 

An  officer  who  had  been  sharing  the  seat  with  Merry 
arose  on  hearing  this  and  said,  kindly  : 

"  Madam,  if  you  will  make  use  of  your  seat  as  a  couch, 
perhaps  your  mother  will  feel  more  comfortable  reclining. 
I  will  get  a  seat  elsewhere." 

Olympia  was  too  much  distressed  to  think  of  acknowl- 
edging this  courteous  action,  but  Merry  spoke  up  timidly  : 

"We  are  most  grateful  to  you,  sir." 

"  Oh,  don't  mention  it.     Are  you  going  far  ? " 


THE  AFTEKJIATH.  121 

"  Yes,  we're  going  to  Richmond,  to— to  find  our  boys, 
lost  in  the  battle  two  weeks  ago." 

"Oh,  you're  from  the  North."  He  was  a  young  man, 
perhaps  thirty,  evidently  proud  of  his  unsoiled  uniform 
and  the  glittering  insignia  of  rank  on  the  sleeve  and  collar. 

"  Yes,  sir  ;  we're  from  Acredale,  near  Warchester,"  Merry 
said,  as  though  Acredale  must  be  known  even  in  this  remote 
place,  and  that  the  knowing  of  it  would  bring  a  certain  con- 
sideration to  the  travelers. 

"  Oh,  yes,  Warchester.  I  fell  in  with  an  officer  from 
there  after  the  battle,  a  Captain  Boone.  Do  you  know 
him  ? " 

"  Oh,  dear  me,  yes.  He  is  from  Acredale.  He  is  captain 
of  Company  K  of  the  Caribee  Regiment—" 

"  Caribee  ?  Why,  yes,  I  remember  that  name.  We  got 
their  flags  and  sent  them  to  Richmond  ;  we — " 

''  And,  oh,  sir,  did  you  take  the  prisoners  ?  I  mean  the 
Caribees — were  there  many  ?  Oh,  dear  sir,  it  is  among  them 
our  boys  were  ;  they  were  mere  boys." 

"  Yes,  ma'am,  there  were  a  good  smart  lot  of  them,  and 
as  you  say  all  very  young.  Boone  himself  can't  be  twenty- 
five." 

•'  And  are  they  treated  well  ?  Do  they  have  care  ?  Of 
course  you  did  not  ask  any  of  their  names  ?  "  Merry  asked 
eagerly,  comforted  to  be  able  to  talk  with  some  one  who 
knew  of  the  Caribees,  for  heretofore,  of'  the  scores  they  had 
questioned,  no  one  had  ever  heard  of  the  regiment. 

"  Oh,  as  to  that,  ma'am,  you  know  a  soldier's  life  is  hard, 
and  a  prisoner's  is  a  good  deal  harder.  Most  of  your  men 
are  in  Castle  Thunder — a  large  tobacco  warehouse."  He 
hesitated,  and  looked  furtively  at  Olympia  administering 
water  to  her  mother.  "  Perhaps,"  he  said,  heartily,  "  if  you 
would  put  a  drop  of  whisky  in  the  cup  it  would  brace  up 
your  mother's  nerves.  We  find  it  a  good  friend  down  here, 
when  it  isn't  an  enemy,  he  added,  smiling  as  Olympia  looked 
at  the  proffered  flask  hesitatingly. 

"  I  assure  you,  madam  "  (Southerners,  in  the  old  time  at 
least,  imitated  the  pleasant  continental  custom  of  addressing 


\ 
V 

122  THE   l^ON   GAME. 


all  women  by  this  comprehensivKterm),  "  you  will  be  the 
better  for  a  sip  yourself.  It  was  upon  that  we  did  most  of 
our  fighting  the  otber  day,  and  it  is  a  mighty  good  brace-up, 
I  assure  you." 

But  Olympia  shook  her  head,  smiling.  Her  mother  had 
taken  a  fair  dose,  and  was,  as  she  owned,  greatly  benefited 
by  it.  The  young  man  sat  on  the  arm  of  the  opposite  seat, 
anxious  to  continue  the  conversation,  but  divided  in  mind. 
Merry  was  trying  to  hide  her  tears,  and  kept  her  head  ob- 
stinately toward  the  window.  Olympia,  with  her  mother's 
head  pillowed  on  her  lap,  strove  to  fan  a  current  of  air  into 
circulation.  She  gave  the  young  man  a  reassuring  glance, 
and  he  resumed  his  seat  in  front  of  her,  beside  the  distracted 
Merry. 

"You  are  from  Eichmond?"  Olympia  asked  as  he  sat 
puzzling  for  a  pretext  to  renew  the  talk  with  her. 

"  Oh,  no ;  I  am  from  Wilmington,  but  I  have  kinsfolk  in 
Richmond.  I  am  on  General  Beauregard's  staff.  My  name 
is  Ballman — Captain  Ballman." 

She  vaguely  remembered  that  Vincent  Atterbury  was  on 
staff  duty.  Perhaps  this  young  man  knew  him. 

"Do  you  know  a  Mr.  Atterbury  in— in  your  army?"  she 
asked,  blushing  foolishly. 

"  Atterbury— Atterbury— why,  yes !  I  know  there  is  such 
a  man.  He  is  in  General  Jackson's  forces — whether  on  the 
staff  or  not  I  can't  say.  Stay.  I  saw  his  name  in  The  Whig 
this  very  day."  He  took  out  the  paper  and  glanced  down 
the  columns.  "Ah,  yes  ;  is  this  the  man  ?"  And  he  read: 
''  Major  Vincent  Atterbury,  whose  wounds  were  at  first 
pronounced  serious,  is  now  at  his  mother's  country-house 
on  the  river.  He  is  doing  excellently,  and  all  fears  have 
been  removed." 

"  Yes,  that  is  he.  We  know  him  quite  well."  And  she 
turned  her  head  window-ward,  with  a  feeling  of  confidence 
in  the  mission,  heretofore  so  blank  and  wild.  Vincent  would 
aid  them.  He  could  bring  official  intervention  to  bear,  with- 
out which  Jack  might,  even  though  alive  and  well,  be  hid- 
den from  them.  She  whispered  this  confidence  to  her  mother 


THE   AFTERMATH.  123 

as  the  train  jolted  along  noisily  over  the  rough  road,  and,  a 
good  deal  inspired  by  it,  Mrs.  Sprague  began  to  take  some- 
thing like  interest  in  the  melancholy  country  that  flew  past 
the  window,  as  if  seeking  a  place  to  hide  its  bareness  in  the 
blue  line  of  uplands  that  marked  the  receding  mountain 
spurs. 

The  captain  was  much  more  potential  in  providing  a  sup- 
per at  the  evening  station  than  the  orderly,  who  was  looked 
upon  with  some  suspicion  when  he  told  the  story  of  his  pro- 
teges. The  zeal  of  the  new  Confederates  did  not  extend  to 
aiding  the  enemy,  even  though  weak  women  and  within  the 
Confederate  lines.  It  was  nearly  morning  when  the  train 
finally  drew  up  in  the  Richmond  station,  and  the  captain, 
with  many  protestations  of  being  at  their  service,  gave  them 
his  army  address,  and,  relinquishing  them  to  the  orderly, 
withdrew.  It  had  been  decided  that  the  party  should  not 
attempt  to  find  quarters  in  the  hotels,  which  their  escort  de- 
clared were  crowded  by  the  government  and  the  thousands 
of  curious  flocking  to  the  city  since  the  battle. 

He  could,  however,  he  thought,  get  them  plain  accommo- 
dations with  an  aunt,  who  lived  a  little  from  the  center  of 
the  town.  They  were  forced  to  walk  thither,  no  conveyance 
being  obtainable.  After  a  long  delay  they  were  admitted,  the 
widow  explaining  that  she  had  been  a  good  deal  troubled  by 
marauding  volunteers.  The  orderly  explained  the  situation 
to  his  kinswoman,  and  without  parley  the  three  ladies  were 
shown  into  two  plain  rooms  adjoining.  They  were  very 
prim  and  clean  ;  the  morning  air  came  through  the  open 
windows,  bearing  an  almost  stupefying  odor.  It  may  have 
been  the  narcotic  influence  of  the  flowers  that  brought  sleep 
to  the  three  women,  for  in  ten  minutes  they  were  at  rest  as 
tranquilly  as  if  in  the  security  of  Acredale. 


124:  THE   IRON   GAME. 

CHAPTER  XIII. 
A  COMEDY  OF  TERRORS. 

WHEN  Jack,  the  day  after  the  battle,  found  himself  able 
to  take  account  of  what  was  going  on,  he  closed  his  eyes 
again  with  a  deep  groan,  believing  in  a  vague  glimpse  of 
peaceful  rest  that  his  last  confused  sensation  was  real — that 
he  was  dead.  But  there  were  no  airy  aids  of  languorous 
ease  to  perpetuate  or  encourage  this  delusion.  Sharp  pains 
racked  his  head  ;  his  right  arm  burned  and  twinged  as 
though  he  had  thrust  it  into  pricking  flames.  Loud  voices 
about,  but  invisible  to  him,  were  swearing  and  gibing.  He 
was  lying  on  his  back,  his  head  on  a  line  with  his  body.  A 
regular  movement,  broken  by  joltings  that  sent  torturing 
darts  through  his  whole  frame,  told  him  without  much  con- 
jecture that  he  was. in  an  ambulance.  The  accent  of  the 
voices  outside  told  him  that  it  was  a  rebel  ambulance  and 
not  a  Northern  one  he  was  in.  He  tried  to  raise  his  head 
to  see  his  'companions,  but  he  might  as  well  have  been 
nailed  to  the  cross,  so  far  as  pain  and  helplessness  went. 
Then  he  lost  the  thread  of  his  thought.  He  heard,  in  a 
vague,  far-off  voice,  men  talking : 

"  We'll  catch  old  Abe  on  our  next  trip  ef  we  go  on  like 
this— eh,  Ben  ? " 

"  I  reckon.  I'm  jess  going  to  take  a  furlough  now. 
Hain't  seen  my  girl  fo'  foah  months." 

"  How  much  did  you  pick  up  ? " 

"I've  got  five  gold  watches  and  right  smart  o'  shin- 
plasters.  I  don't  reckon  they'll  pass  in  our  parts,  but  I'm 
going  to  trade  'em  off  with  some  of  these  wounded  chaps. 
They'll  give  gold  for  'em  fast  enough." 

"  I  got  a  heap  of  gold  watches,  jackknives,  and  sech.  I 
don't  know  what  in  the  land  to  do  with  'em.  Suppose  we 
can  sell  'em  in  Richmond  ? " 

"  Yes— but  how  are  we  going  to  get  to  Richmond  ?  We're 
ordered  to  dump  these  Yanks  at  Newmarket  and  go  back. 
Ef  we  don't  get  to  Richmond,  our  watches  ain't  worth  a  red 


A  COMEDY   OF  TERRORS.  125 

cent.  Jess  like's  not  old  Bory'll  issue  an  order  to  turn 
everything  in.  I'm  blamed  if  I  will !  " 

"  Look  yere,  Ben,  do  you  see  that  road  off  there  to  the 
right  ? " 

"Yes,  I  do,  but  I  don't  see  that  it's  different  from  any 
other  road." 

"  Don't  you  ?  Well,  honey,  it's  mitey  sight  different 
from  all  the  roads  you  ever  saw.  It  takes  you  where  you 
don't  want  to  go." 

"  What  do  you  mean,  Bob  ?  " 

"I  jess  mean  that  ar  road  goes  to  Newmarket,  where 
these  Yanks  are  ordered,  but  we've  lost  it  and  we  shall  come 
out  in  about  an  hour  and  a  half  at  the  junction,  whar  th' 
train  goes  on  to  Richmond.  See  ?  " 

"  Bob  Purvis,  you  are  a  general,  suah,"  and  then  there 
followed  low,  rollicking  laughter,  mingled  with  a  gurgling 
as  of  a  liquid  swallowed  from  a  flask.  "  But  how'll  we 
manage  at  the  junction  ?  We  can't  go  right  on  the  cars  ? 
There  is  some  hocus-pocus  about  everything  you  do  in  the 
army." 

"  Oh,  jess  you  keep  your  eye  on  your  dad,  and  you'll  see 
things  you  never  saw  afore.  The  minit  them  cavalry  sneaks 
left  us  back  thar,  I  made  up  my  mind  I'd  skip  Newmarket. 
They've  gone  back  to  pick  up  more  loot.  No  one  at  the 
junction  knows  what  our  orders  was.  Besides,  it'll  be  dark 
when  we  get  thar.  The  trains'll  be  full  of  our  wounded. 
We'll  slip  these  Yanks  in  as  if  under  orders.  No  one  will 
know  but  we're  hospital  guards  on  a  detail  for  the  wounded. 
When  it  is  found  out  we  shall  be  in  Richmond,  and,  if  the 
provost  folk  get  hold  of  me  afore  I've  been  home  and  planted 
my  haul,  then  I'm  a  Yank." 

"By  mitey,  Ben,  you  are  a  general,  suah."  Then  sup- 
pressed laughter  and  the  gurgling  of  the  flowing  enlivener. 
Jack  blissfully  fell  into  dreams,  wherein  home  things  and 
warlike  doings  mingled  in  grotesque  medley.  Relapses  into 
consciousness  followed  at  he  knew  not  what  intervals  there- 
after. He  was  conscious  of  cruel  torment  and  a  clumsy 
transfer  into  another  vehicle,  confused  sounds  of  groans, 


126  THE   IRON   GAME. 

curses,  waving  lights,  and  the  hissing  of  escaping  steam  al- 
most in  his  very  ears.  Then  the  anguish  of  thundering 
wheels,  until  his  cracked  brain  reeled  and  he  was  mercifully 
unconscious.  How  long  ?  His  eyes  opened  on  a  clean  white 
wall,  flowers  hung  from  the  windows  in  plumy  festoons,  birds 
sang  in  the  yellow  dazzling  sunlight.  What  could  it  mean  ? 
Was  he  at  home  ?  Surely  there  was  nothing  of  war  in  these 
comfortable  surroundings.  His  left  arm  was  free,  there  was 
no  one  lying  near  to  impede  its  movement.  So  it  wasn't  a 
hospital.  He  took  vague  note  of  all  this  before  he  tried  to 
lift  his  arm.  He  raised  his  hand  to  rub  his  eyes  and  to  as- 
sure himself  that  it  was  not  a  cruel  delusion.  When  he  took 
it  away,  a  kind  face — the  face  of  a  woman — was  bending 
over  him. 

"You  are  feeling  better,  aren't  you,  lieutenant  ?" 

"  Lieutenant "  ?  Why  did  she  call  him  lieutenant  ?  Had 
he  been  promoted  on  the  battle-field  ?  Was  he  in  the  Union 
lines  ?  Oh,  yes ;  else  he  would  have  been  in  a  hospital, 
with  moaning  men  all  about  him.  He  tried  to  speak.  The 
woman  put  her  finger  to  her  lips,  warningly. 

"  The  doctor  says  you  roust  not  speak  or  be  spoken  to  until 
you  get  strong." 

Days  passed.  He  couldn't  tell  how  many,  for  he  lay, 
long  hours  at  a  time,  unconscious,  the  mental  faculties 
mercifully  dead  while  the  wounded  ligatui*es  knit  themselves 
anew.  His  right  arm  had  been  cut  by  a  saber-stroke,  and  a 
pistol:ball  had  entered  above  the  shoulder-blade.  Prompt 
attention  would  have  given  him  recovery  in  a  few  days,  but 
the  twenty-four  hours  in  a  cart  and  the  cars  made  his  condi- 
tion, for  a  time,  serious. 

But  now  he  is  visibly  stronger,  and  his  nurse  brings  peo- 
ple into  the  room  to  see  him.  They  look  at  him  with  won- 
der and  admiration,  while  the  good  lady  is  all  in  a  flutter  of 
delight.  He  hears  himself  spoken  of  always  as  the  "  lieu- 
tenant," and  hesitates  to  ask  an  explanation.  The  physician 
comes  but  seldom,  the  lady  explaining  that  all  the  doctors  in 
town  are  busy  in  the  hospitals.  The  truth  flashed  upon  him 
one  morning,  when  his  hostess  came  bursting  in  to  say  : 


A  COMEDY   OF  TERRORS.  127 

"The  provost  guard  has  come  to  take  your  name.  I 
don't  know  it,  for  when  you  were  brought  here  my  son  only 
heard  you  called  lieutenant." 

"  My  name  is  John  Sprague  " — Jack  lifted  himself  to  his 
elbow  in  excitement  and  disregard  of  everything — "  and  my 
regiment  is  the— ah!"  He  fell  back,  and  the  frightened 
dame  hurried  to  him  as  she  saw  his  changed  look  and  deadly 
pallor. 

"  Oh,  how  careless  of  me ;  how  unthinking !  There,  lie 
perfectly  still.  I  will  send  the  guard  away  and  come  back." 

She  was  gone  before  he  could  recover  his  speech  or  enough 
coherence  to  say  what  was  in  his  mind.  She  informed  the 
orderly  that  the  ailing  man  was  John  Sprague,  a  lieutenant 
in  the  First  Virginia  Volunteers,  for  that  was  the  regiment 
the  hospital  guards  had  named,  when,  on  the  night  of  the 
arrival,  the  eager  citizens  swarmed  at  the  station  to  take  the 
wounded  to  their  homes,  the  hospitals  being  sadly  unready. 
Jack  instantly  suspected  the  situation,  the  conversation  in 
the  ambulance  coming  back  to  him  now  distinctly.  What 
should  he  do  ?  He  was  in  honor  bound  to  undeceive  the 
kind-hearted  and  unwitting  accomplice  of  the  fraud  practiced 
on  herself  as  well  as  on  him.  She  came  in  presently  with 
an  officer.  Jack  was  not  familiar  with  the  rebel  insignia, 
and  could  not  discover  his  rank  or  service,  but  he  expected 
to  hear  himself  denounced  as  a  spy  or  anything  odious. 

"Our  surgeon  has  been  sent  to  Manassas,  and  Dr.  Van 
Ness  is  come  to  take  care  of  you  in  his  place,"  the  matron 
said,  as  Jack  stared  silent  and  quavering  at  the  new-comer. 
That  gentleman  examined  the  patient,  shook  his  head  dubi- 
ously and  declared  high  fever  at  work,  and  ordered  absolute 
quiet  for  at  least  twenty-four  hours,  when,  if  he  could,  he 
would  return.  "  Continue  the  prescriptions  you  have  now, 
Mrs.  Eaines.  All  he  needs  is  quiet.  The  hospital  steward 
will  come  to  dress  his  wounds  as  usual." 

Mrs.  Raines  came  in  with  tea  and  toast  in  the  evening, 
and  as  she  spread  the  napkin  on  the  bed  she  prattled  cheerily. 

"  I'm  so  happy  to-night.  I've  just  received  a  letter  from 
my  son.  He's  at  Manassas.  He's  been  promoted  to  lieuten- 


128  THE   IRON   GAME. 

ant  from  sergeant.  It  was  read  at  the  head  of  the  regiment 
— for  gallant  service  at  the  Henry  House,  where  he  captured 
part  of  a  company  of  Yankees  with  a  squad  of  cavalry.  He's 
only  twenty-two,  and  if  he  lives  he  may  be  a  general — if  those 
cowardly  Yankees  will  only  fight  long  enough.  But  I'm 
afraid  they  won't.  The  Whig  says  this  morning  that  that 
beast  Lincoln  has  to  keep  himself  guarded  by  a  regiment  of 
negroes,  as  the  Northern  people  want  to  kill  him.  I  hope 
they  won't,  for  if  they  did  then  they  might  put  some  one  in 
his  place  that  has  some  sense,  and  then  the  war  would  come 
to  an  end  and  we  should  be  cheated  in  a  settlement,  for  the 
Yankees  are  sharper  than  our  big-hearted,  generous  men. 
No,  sir,  no;  you  mustn't  talk.  I've  promised  to  keep  you 
quiet,  so  lie  still.  I'll  read  The  Whig  to  you." 

She  ran  over  the  meager  dispatches  made  up  of  hearsay 
and  speculation — how  the  North  had  fallen  into  a  rage  with 
the  Washington  authorities;  how  Lincoln's  life  wasn't  safe; 
how  the  Cabinet  had  all  resigned ;  how  the  Democrats  had 
arisen  in  Congress  and  in  the  State  Legislatures  and  de- 
manded negotiations  with  "  President  Davis  " ;  how  England 
was  drawing  up  a  treaty  with  the  new  Confederacy.  Then 
she  turned  to  the  local  page.  She  ran  over  a  dozen  para- 
graphs recounting  the  deeds  of  well-known  Richmond  he- 
roes, but  these  made  no  impression  upon  the  listener,  until 
she  read: 

"  Major  Vincent  Atterbury,  whose  gallantry  at  the  battle  of 
the  21st  Richmond  is  a  subject  of  pride  to  his  friends,  was 
transferred  to  his  country  home,  on  the  James,  yesterday. 
He  is  still  very  low,  but  the  surgeons  declare  that  home  quiet 
and  careful  nursing  will  restore  him  to  his  duties  in  time 
for  the  autumn  campaign — if  the  Yankees  do  not  surrender 
before  that  time." 

Jack's  eyes  were  so  bright  when  Mrs.  Raines  looked  at 
him,  as  she  lowered  the  sheet,  that  she  arose,  exclaiming 
quickly: 

"  There,  I  have  brought  the  fever  back !  Your  eyes  are 
glittering  and  your  cheeks  are  flushed.  No,  do  not  speak." 

She  moved  precipitately  from  the  room,  and  Jack  sank 


A  COMEDY   OF  TERRORS.  129 

back  with  a  groan.  His  danger,  if  not  his  difficulties,  might 
be  overcome  now.  He  would  write  to  Mrs.  Atterbury,  and 
through  Vincent  arrange  for  an  exchange.  But  a  still  deeper 
trouble  had  been  on  his  mind.  Where  were  Barney  and 
Nick,  and,  worse  than  all,  young  Dick  Perley  ?  If  any  mishap 
had  befallen  that  boy,  he  would  shrink  from  returning  to 
Acredale.  And  his  mother,  what  must  her  state  of  mind 
be  ?  How  many  days  had  passed  since  the  battle  ?  He  had 
no  means  of  knowing.  Ah,  yes!  The  paper  was  there  on 
the  stand,  where  Mrs.  Raines  had  thrown  it.  He  raised  him- 
self slowly  and  seized  it.  Heavens !  Saturday,  August  4th  ? 
Two  weeks  since  that  fatal  Sunday !  And  his  mother  ?  Oh, 
he  must  find  means  to  write,  to  telegraph.  "  Mrs.  Raines," 
he  called,  hoarsely,  "  Mrs.  Raines !  "  She  came  running  to 
his  side  in  alarm. 

"  Oh,  what  has  happened  ?    You  are  worse !  " 

"  I  am  very  comfortable;  but,  my  kind  friend,  I  must— I 
must  let  my  mother  know  that  I  am  alive ;  she  will  think 
me  dead." 

"  That's  what  I  meant  to  ask  you — just  as  soon  as  you 
seemed  able  to  talk.  I  would  have  gladly  sent  her  word  and 
invited  her  to  come  here,  but  I  didn't  know  the  name  nor 
the  address.  You  didn't  have  a  stitch  of  clothes  when  you 
came  except  your  underwear ;  the  rest  had  been  taken  off, 
the  men  said,  because  they  were  soiled  and  bloody,  and  there 
wasn't  a  clew  of  any  sort  to  your  identity,  except  that  you 
were  a  lieutenant  in  a  Virginia  regiment.  I  thought  we 
should  find  out  when  the  provost  came,  but  they  have  sent  to 
Manassas,  and  no  answer  has  come  back  yet." 

"The  men  who  brought  me  here  deceived  you,  Mrs. 
Raines.  I  do  not  belong  to  a  Virginia  regiment;  I  belong 
to  a  New  York  regiment,  and  I  am  a — a — Union  soldier." 

"  Great  Father !  A  Yankee  ? "  The  poor  woman  sank 
on  the  nearest  chair,  as  some  one  who  has  been  nursing  a 
patient  that  suddenly  turns  out  to  have  small -pox  or 
leprosy. 

"  Yes,  Mrs.  Raines :  if  you  prefer  that  name,  I'm  a  Yan- 
kee—but we  call  only  New  -  Englanders  Yankees."  He 


130  THE   IRON   GAME. 

waited  for  her  to  speak,  but  as  she  sat  dumb,  helpless,  over- 
come, he  continued :  *'  I  tried  to  explain  the  mistake  before, 
but  your  kindness  cut  me  off.  I  can  only  say  that,  though 
you  have  given  me  a  mother's  care  and  a  Christian's  consid- 
eration under  a  misunderstanding,  I  trust  you  will  not  blame 
me  for  willful  deception  nor  regret  the  goodness  you  have 
shown  the  stranger  in  your  hands." 

"  And  those  men  that  brought  you  here — were  they  Yan- 
kees, too  ? "  she  asked,  her  mind  dwelling,  womanlike,  on 
the  least  essential  factor  of  the  problem  in  order  to  keep  the 
grievous  fact  as  far  away  as  possible. 

"Oh,  no!  they  were  your  own  people.  There  was  no 
collusion,  I  assure  you."  Jack  almost  laughed  now,  as  the 
dialogue  in  the  ambulance  recurred  to  him,  and  the  adroit 
use  the  men  had  made  of  their  unconscious  charges  to  secure 
a  furlough.  u  No ;  I  was  more  amazed  than  I  can  say  when 
I  came  to  myself  in  this  charming  chamber — a  paradise  it 
seemed  to  me,  a  home  pai-adise — when  your  kind  face  bent 
over  my  pillow." 

"  It's  a  cruel  disappointment,"  she  said,  rising  and  hold- 
ing the  back  of  the  chair  as  she  tilted  it  toward  the  bed. 
"  We  were  so  proud  of  you — so  proud  to  have  any  one  that 
had  fought  for  our  dear  State  in  our  own  house  to  nurse,  to 
bring  back  to  -life.  Every  one  on  the  street  has  some  one 
from  the  battle,  and  oh,  what  will  be  said  of  us  when  people 
know  that  we — we — "  But  here  the  cruelty  of  the  conclu- 
sion came  too  sharply  to  her  mind,  and  she  walked  to  the 
window,  sobbing  softly. 

"  I  can  understand,  believe  me,  Mrs.  Raines,  and  I  am 
going  to  propose  a  means  to  you  whereby  I  shall  be  taken 
from  here,  and  your  neighbors  shall  never  know  that  you 
entertained  an  enemy  unawares,  though  God  knows  I  don't 
see  why  we  should  be  enemies  when  the  battle  is  over.  If 
your  son  were  in  my  condition  I  should  think  very  hard  of 
my  mother  if  she  were  not  to  him  what  you  have  been 
to  me." 

"  But  I  can't  believe  you're  a  Yankee;  you  were  so  gen- 
tle, so  patient  in  all  the  dreadful  times  when  the  surgeon 


A  COMEDY  OF  TERRORS.  131 

was  cutting  and  hacking.  Oh,  I  can't  believe  it !  Oh,  please 
say  you  are  joking — that  you  wanted  to  give  me  a  fright. 
And  you  have  a  mother  ? "  She  came  over  near  the  bed 
again  and  stood  looking  at  him  dismally,  half  in  doubt,  half 
in  perplexed  wonder;  for  Yankee,  in  her  mind,  suggested 
some  such  monster  as  the  Greeks  conjured  when  the  Goths 
poured  into  the  peninsula,  maiming  the  men  and  debauch- 
ing the  women.  "  I  said  Sprague  wasn't  a  Virginia  name," 
she  murmered,  plaintively,  in  a  last  desperate  attempt  to 
fortify  herself  against  the  worst;  "but  there's  no  telling 
what  names  are  in  Virginia  now,  since  Norfolk  has  grown 
so  big  and  folks  come  in  that  way  from  all  over  the  world." 

Jack  could  scarcely  keep  a  serious  face,  as  this  humorous 
lament  displayed  the  pride  of  the  Dominion  and  the  uncon- 
scious Bceotianism  of  the  provincial. 

"  Now,  Mrs.  Raines,  here  is  what  I  propose :  Major  Atter- 
bury,  of  whom  you  read  to  me,  is  my  nearest  friend.  We 
have  been  college  comrades;  he  has  passed  weeks  at  my 
home,  and  I  have  been  asked  to  his,  and  meant  to  come  this 
autumn  vacation,  if  the  war  had  not  broken  out.  I  will 
write  to  his  mother,  and  she  will  have  me  removed  to  her 
house,  and  it  need  never  be  known  that  you  gave  aid  and 
comfort  to  the  enemy." 

"  But  the  Atterburys  will  never  receive  you.  They  were 
the  first  to  favor  secession,  when  all  the  rest  of  us  opposed 
it.  To  tell  you  the  truth,  Mr.  Sprague,  it  is  partly  because 
we  were  abused  a  good  deal  for  holding  back  when  the 
secession  excitement  was  first  started,  that  I  am  so — so  anx- 
ious about  the  story  getting  out  that  we  entertained  a  Yan- 
kee prisoner.  My  husband  is  in  the  service  of  the  govern- 
ment in  Norfolk,  and  my  son  is  in  the  army.  But  you  know 
what  neighborhood  gossip  is." 

So,  after  a  friendly  talk  in  which  the  poor  lady  cried  a 
great  deal  and  besought  Jack's  good -will  for  her  darling 
William,  if  ever  he  were  luckless  enough  to  be  captured,  the 
note  was  written  and  dispatched  to  the  Atterburys,  whose 
city  house  was  near  the  capital  square.  The  messenger  re- 
turned a  half -hour  later,  reporting  the  family  out  of  town ; 


132  THE   IRON   GAME. 

that  they  had  taken  the  major  to  their  country-place  near 
Williamsburg,  on  the  banks  of  the  James.  The  messenger 
had  given  the  letter  to  the  housekeeper,  who  said  that  it 
would  go  out  an  hour  later  with  the  mail  sent  daily  to  the 
family. 

"  Williamsburg  is  two  hours'  ride  on  the  train,"  Mrs. 
Raines  explained,  "  and  we  sha'n't  hear  from  them  until  to- 
morrow." 

Jack  said  nothing;  his  mind  was  on  his  mother  and  the 
misery  she  must  be  enduring.  He  turned  restlessly  on  his 
pillow  that  night,  and  woke  feverish  in  the  morning.  Mrs. 
Kaines  now  took  as  much  pains  to  keep  people  who  called 
from  seeing  her  hero  as  she  had  before  put  herself  out  to 
display  the  invalid.  Even  the  doctor,  calling  about  nine 
o'clock,  was  sent  away  on  some  pretext,  and  the  poor  lady 
waited  with  an  anxiety,  almost  as  poignant  as  Jack's  own, 
for  the  response  to  his  note.  About  noon  it  came.  Mrs. 
Raines  went  to  the  door  herself,  not  daring  to  trust  the  col- 
ored girl,  who  had  lavished  untold  pains  on  Jack's  linen 
and  the  manual  part  of  his  care.  Jack  heard  low  voices  in 
the  hallway,  then  on  the  stairs,  and  he  knew  some  one  had 
come. 

"  Here  is  Miss  Atterbury  sent  to  fetch  you,  lieutenant," 
Mrs.  Raines  said,  now  very  much  relieved,  and  impressed, 
too,  by  the  powerful  friends  her  dangerous  prot&g&  was  able 
to  summon  so  promptly  by  a  line. 

"  You  are  Rosalind  ? "  Jack  said,  smiling  at  a  pair  of  the 
brownest  and  most  bewitching  eyes  fixed  soberly  on  him. 
"  I  should  have  known  you  if  I  had  met  you  in  the  street, 
although  you  were  a  small  girl  when  I  saw  you  last." 

"  You  needn't  take  much  credit  for  that,  sir,  since  Vin- 
cent probably  had  my  portrait  in  all  his  coat-pockets  and 
his  room  frescoed  with  them — it's  a  trick  of  his.  So  you 
needn't  pretend  that  it  was  family  likeness — I  know  better. 
Vincent  has  all  the  good  looks  of  the  family,  and  I  have  all 
the  good  qualities." 

"  That's  why  you've  come  to  console  the  afflicted  ? " 

"Yes,  duty — you  know  how  disagreeable  that  is.     Vin- 


A  COMEDY  OF  TERRORS.  133 

cent  declared  he  would  come  himself,  if  I  didn't,  and  mamma 
wouldn't  hear  of  your  being  moved  by  servants  alone,  so  I 
am  here.  But  I  give  you  fair  warning  that  I  am  a  rebel  of 
the  most  ferocious  sort.  You  shall  ride  under  the  '  bonnie 
blue  flag '  to  Eosedale,  and  you  shall  salute  our  flag  every 
morning  when  it  is  hoisted." 

"  I  am  the  most  docile  of  men  and  the  easiest  of  invalids. 
I  will  ride  under  Captain  Kidd's  flag  and  salute  the  standard 
of  the  Grand  Turk,  to  be  near  Vincent  just  now." 

When  Kosalind's  colored  aids  had  placed  him  hi  the  big 
family  carriage,  and  he  had  bidden  Mrs.  Raines  farewell,  the 
young  lady  resumed  :  "  Ah,  I  know  you  !  Vincent  has  told 
me  about  your  Yankee  ways.  Not  another  word,  sir.  I'll 
act  as  guide,  and  tell  you  all  we  see  of  note  as  we  go  on. 
There  where  your  eyes  are  resting  now  is  the  Confederate 
Hall  of  Independence  ;  that  modest  house  on  the  corner  is 
President  Davis's.  We  are  going  to  build  him  another  by 
and  by— after  we  capture  Washington  and  get  our  belong- 
ings—no— no — you  needn't  speak.  I  know  what  you  want 
to  say.  That's  Washington's  monument,  and  there  is  our 
dear  old  Jefferson.  Doesn't  it  quicken  even  your  slow 
Yankee  blood  to  pass  the  walls  that  heard  Jefferson  at  his 
greatest,  that  held  Patrick  Henry,  that  covered  Washington  ? 
Ah  !  if  you  Northern  Pharisees  were  not  money-grubbers 
and  souless  to  everything  but  the  almighty  dollar,  you 
would  join  hands  with  us  in  creating  our  new  Confederacy. 
Yes,  sir,  you're  my  prisoner.  We  shall  see  that  one  Yankee 
is  kept  out  of  mischief — if  the  war  lasis — which  is  not  likely, 
as  your  folks  are  quite  cowed  by  the  victory  at  Bull  Run. 
Wasn't  it  a  splendid  fight  ?  I  shall  never  forgive  Vin  for 
not  letting  me  know  it  was  coming  off.  Vin,  you  know,  is 
on  General  Early's  staff.  He  knew  two  days  before  that 
there  was  to  be  a  fight,  for  he  started  from  Winchester  to 
keep  the  railway  clear  and  lead  the  troops  to  the  Henry 
House  when  they  got  off  the  cars.  He  was  in  the  thickest 
of  the  fight,  near  Professor  Jackson— Stonawall,  they  call 
him  now.  He — Vin — had  three  horses  killed,  and  was  made 
a  major  on  the  field  by  General  Joe  Johnston.  What  ? — " 


134  THE   IRON   GAME. 

"  Please  let  the  carriage  stop  a  moment.  I  want  to  ab- 
soi'b  that  lovely  view." 

He  pointed  to  the  James,  debouching  from  the  hills  over 
which  the  carriage  was  slowly  rolling.  The  afternoon  sun 
was  behind  them  ;  but  far,  far  to  the  eastward  the  noble 
river  wound  through  masses  of  dark,  deep  green  until  it 
was  lost  in  a  glow  of  shimmering  mirage  in  the  low  horizon. 

"  Isn't  it  lovely  ?  We  shall  have  a  nobler  capital  city 
than  Washington,  with  its  horrid  red  streets,  its  wilderness 
of  bare  squares,  its  interminable  distances — " 

"  Carcassonne,"  Jack  murmured. 

"  Carcassonne — what's  that  ? " 

"  An  exquisite  bit  of  verse  and  a  touching  story.     I — ' 

"  There,  there — stop.  You  are  talking  again.  You  shall 
read  the  poem  to  me — that  is,  if  it  isn't  a  glorification  of  the 
North." 

"No  ;  Carcassonne  was  a  city  of  the  South." 

"  Really — you  must  not  talk.  I'm  not  going  to  open  my 
lips  again  until  we  get  to  the  boat." 

She  settled  back  in  her  place  and  took  out  a  book,  look- 
ing over  the  top  at  him  from  time  to  time.  The  motion  of 
the  vehicle,  the  warmth  of  the  day,  and  the  odorous  breath 
of  flowers  and  shrubs  gradually  dulled  his  mischievous 
spirits,  and  he  slept  tranquilly  until  the  carriage  drew  up  at 
the  wharf  at  Harrison's  Landing,  whence,  taken  on  a  primi- 
tive ferry,  they  in  an  hour  or  more  arrived  at  a  long  wooden 
pier  extending  into  the  river.  It  was  nearly  six  o'clock  when 
the  carriage  entered  a  solemn  aisle  of  pines  ending  in  a 
labyrinth  of  oleanders  and  the  tropic-like  plants  of  the  South. 
Then  an  old-fashioned  porticoed  mansion  came  into  view, 
and  on  signal  from  the  driver  a  posse  of  colored  servants 
came  trooping  out  noisily  to  carry  the  invalid  in.  Mrs.  At- 
terbury  was  on  the  veranda,  and  stepped  down  to  the  car- 
riage to  welcome  the  guest.  She  greeted  him  with  the  affec- 
tionate cordiality  of  a  mother,  and  asked  : 

"  How  have  you  borne  the  fatigue  ?  I  hope  Rosa  hasn't 
let  you  talk  ? " 

"  If  I  may  speak  now  it  will  be  to  bear  testimony  that  I 


A  COMEDY  OF  TERRORS.  135 

have  been  made  a  mummy  since  noon.  I  haven't  been  per- 
mitted to  ask  the  local  habitation  or  name  of  the  scenic  de- 
lights that  have  made  the  journey  a  panorama  of  beauty 
and  my  guide  a  tyrant,  to  whom,  by  comparison,  Caligula 
was  a  tender  master  !  " 

''  Since  you  slept  most  of  the  way  you  must  have  dreamed 
the  beauty,  as  you  certainly  have  invented  the  tyrant,"  Rosa 
retorted,  as  the  brawny  servants  lifted  Jack  bodily  and  car- 
ried him  up  the  three  steps  and  into  the  sitting-room. 

"  Your  quarters  are  next  to  my  son's,  if  you  think  you 
can  endure  the  constant  outbreaks  of  that  locality.  We  are 
with  him  in  all  but  his  sleeping  hours,  so  you  will  do  well 
to  reflect  before  you  decide." 

"  Oh,  I  shall  insist  on  being  near  Vincent.  He's  too 
badly  hurt  to  overcome  me  in  case  we  are  tempted  to  fight 
our  battles  over  again." 

u  But  he  has  allies  here,  sir.  and  you  must  remember  that 
you  are  a  prisoner  of  war,"  Rosa  cried  from  the  landing 
above,  en  route  to  minister  to  her  hero  before  the  Yankee 
invaded  him.  Vincent  was  propped  up  in  the  bed  with  a 
mass  of  pillows,  and  the  two  friends  embraced  in  college-boy 
fashion,  too  much  moved  for  a  moment  to  begin  the  flood  of 
questions  each  was  eager  to  ask  and  answer. 

"  Before  I  say  a  word  of  anything  else,  Vint,  I  want  you 
to  do  me  a  great  service.  It  is  two  weeks  since  the  battle. 
I  am  sure  my  mother  can  not  have  any  certain  information 
about  me.  Can  you  manage  any  way  to  get  a  letter  or  tele- 
gram sent  her  ? " 

"  Of  course  I  can.  Nothing  easier.  Write  your  telegram. 
I  will  send  it  under  cover  to  General  Early.  He  will  for- 
ward it  by  flag  of  truce  to  Washington,  and  it  will  be  sent 
North  from  there." 

But  Jack's  letter  was  never  sent,  for  when  the  post  came 
from  Richmond  the  next  day,  Vincent  read  in  the  morning 
paper  a  surprising  personal  item  : 

"  '  Among  the  distinguished  arrivals  in  the  city  within 
the  week,  we  have  just  learned  of  the  presence  of  Mrs. 


136  THE   IRON   GAME. 

Sprague,  wife  of  the  famous  Senator,  a  contemporary  with 
Clay  and  Webster.  Mrs.  Sprague  has  come  to  Richmond  in 
search  of  her  son,  who  was  captured  or  killed  on  the  field 
near  the  Henry  House.  She  comes  with  her  daughter  un- 
der a  safeguard  from  General  Johnston,  who  knew  the 
family  when  he  was  at  West  Point.  Mrs.  Sprague  is  stop- 
ping with  Mrs.  Be  van,  on  Vernon  Street,  and  is  under  the 
escort  of  Private  William  Bevan  of  the  general  headquar- 
ters.' " 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

UNDER  TWO  FLAGS. 

THAT  modest  paragraph  in  the  morning  paper  wrought 
amazing  results  in  the  fortunes  of  many  of  the  people  we  are 
interested  in.  A  regiment  of  cavalry  encamped  near  the 
outskirts  of  the  city  on  the  line  of  the  Virginia  Central  had 
broken  camp  early  in  the  morning  to  march  northward. 
One  company  detailed  to  bring  up  the  rear  was  still  loiter- 
ing near  the  station  when  the  newspapers  were  thrown  off 
the  train  and  eagerly  seized  by  the  men,  who  bestrewed 
themselves  in  groups  to  hear  the  news  read  aloud. 

"  Here,  you  Towhead,  you're  company  clerk ;  you  read  so 
that  we  can  all  hear." 

In  response  to  this  a  stripling,  in  the  most  extraordinary 
costume,  came  out  from  the  impedimenta  of  the  company 
with  a  springy  step  and  consequential  air.  You  wouldn't 
have  recognized  the  scapegrace,  Dick  Perley,  in  the  carnival 
figure  that  came  forward,  for  his  curling  blond  hair  was 
closely  cropped,  his  face  was  smeared  with  the  soilure  of 
pots  and  pans,  and  it  was  evident  that  the  eager  warrior  had 
exchanged  the  weapons  of  war  for  the  utensils  of  the  com- 
pany kitchen.  He  read  in  a  high,  clear  treble  the  tele- 
graphic dispatches,  the  sanguinary  editorial  ratiocinations, 
Orphic  in  their  prophetic  sententiousness,  and  then  turned 
to  the  local  columns. 


UNDER  TWO  FLAGS.  137 

Any  one  listening  to  the  lad  would  never  have  suspected 
that  he  was  not  a  Southron.  He  prolonged  the  a's  and  o's, 
as  the  Southern  trick  is,  and  imitated  to  such  perfection  the 
pleasant  localisms  of  Virginian  pronunciation,  that  keener 
critics  of  speech  and  accent  than  these  galliard  troops  would 
have  been  deceived.  But  suddenly  his  voice  breaks,  he  falls 
into  the  clear,  distinct  enunciation  of  New  York — the  only 
speech  in  the  Union  that  betrays  no  sign  of  locality.  He  is 
reading  the  lines  about  the  distinguished  arrivals.  Fortu- 
nately at  the  instant  there  is  a  blast  from  the  bugles — "  Fall 
in !  " — and  the  men  rush-  to  their  horses.  In  twenty  minutes 
the  company  is  clattering  out  011  the  Mechanicsville  road, 
and  at  noon,  when  the  squadron  halted  for  dinner,  the  com- 
pany cook  had  to  rely  on  the  clumsy  ministrations  of  his 
colored  aides.  "  Towhead  "  had  disappeared. 

Olympia,  after  a  night  of  anguish,  began  the  new  day 
with  a  heavy  burden  on  her  mind.  Mrs.  Sprague  was  de- 
lirious. The  physician  summoned  during  the  night  shook 
his  head  gravely.  She  was  suffering  from  overexertion, 
heat,  and  anxiety.  He  was  unable  to  do  more  than  miti- 
gate her  sufferings.  He  recommended  country  air  and  ab- 
solute repose.  Merry,  too,  though  holding  up  bravely,  gave 
signs  of  breaking  down.  The  two  women— Olympia  and 
Merry — under  the  escort  of  young  Bevan,  had  gone  through 
the  prisons,  the  dreadful  Castle  Winder,  and  through  the  hos- 
pitals, with  hope  dying  at  every  new  disappointment.  They 
came  across  many  of  the  Caribees,  and  saw  a  member  of 
Congress,  caught  on  the  battle-field,  who  knew  the  regiment 
well. 

Jack  had  been  traced  to  Porter's  lines,  then  far  to  the 
Jeft,  where  Nick  had  been  told  to  wait.  Nick  was  among 
the  sweltering  mass  at  Castle  Winder,  but  he  could  trace 
the  missing  no  farther.  He  told  of  Jack's  persistent  valor 
to  the  last,  and  the  dreadful  moment,  when  he,  Jack,  had 
been  separated.  Dick  he  had  not  seen  at  all.  Olympia 
made  intercession  for  Nick's  release,  but  was  informed  that 
nothing  could  be  done  until  a  cartel  of  exchange  had  been 
arranged.  The  Yankee  authorities  had  in  the  first  five 


138  THE   IRON   GAME. 

months  of  the  war  refused  to  make  any  arrangement,  while 
the  Union  forces  were  capturing  the  Confederate  armies  in 
West  Virginia  and  Missouri.  Now  that  the  Confederates 
held  an  equal  number,  they  were  going  to  retaliate  upon 
the  overconfident  North.  Olympia  placed  five  hundred 
dollars  at  Nick's  disposal  in  the  hands  of  the  comman- 
dant to  supply  the  lad  with  better  food  than  the  com- 
missary furnished,  and,  promising  him  strenuous  aid  so 
soon  as  she  got  back  to  Washington,  she  resumed  the  quest 
for  the  lost.  She  had  written  out  an  advertisement,  to  be 
inserted  in  all  the  city  papers,  and  was  to  visit  the  offices 
herself  with  young  Bevan  that  evening.  She  had  her  bon- 
net on,  and  was  charging  Merry  how  to  minister  to  the  ail- 
ing mother,  when  the  hostess  knocked  at  the  door.  "  A  lady 
is  in  the  parlor  who  says  she  must  see  Mrs.  Sprague  imme- 
diately." Olympia  followed  Mrs.  Bevan  down  tremblingly, 
far  from  any  anticipation  of  what  was  in  store  for  her; 
rather  in  the  belief  that  it  was  some  wretched  mother  from 
Acredale  who  had  learned  of  their  presence  and  hoped  to  get 
aid  for  an  imprisoned  son,  husband,  or  brother.  But  when 
she  saw  the  kind,  matronly  face  of  Mrs.  Raines  beaming 
with  the  delight  of  bearing  good  news,  she  sank  into  a 
chair,  saying  faintly : 

"  Did  you  wish  to  see  me,  Mrs. — Mrs. — " 

"  You  are  not  Mrs.  Sprague  ? " 

"  No;  my  mother  is  very  ill.  I  am  Mrs.  Sprague's  daugh- 
ter. Can  I—" 

"  Well,  Miss  Sprague,  I  think  I  can  cure  your  mother.  I — " 

She  arose  and  walked  mysteriously  to  the  door  and  looked 
into  the  hallway. 

"I  know  what  the  disease  is  your  mother  is  suffering 
from." 

She  couldn't  resist  prolonging  the  consequence  of  her 
mission.  All  women  have  the  dramatic  instinct.  All  love 
to  intensify  the  unexpected.  But  Olympia's  listless  manner 
and  touching  desolation  spurred  her  on.  She  put  her  fin- 
gers to  her  lips  warningly,  and  coming  quite  near  her  whis- 
pered, as  she  had  seen  people  do  on  the  stage : 


UNDER  TWO  FLAGS.  139 

"  Don't  make  any  disturbance ;  don't  faint.  Your  brother 
is  alive  and  well!  There,  there — I  told  you." 

Olympia  was  hugging  the  astonished  woman,  who  glanced 
in  terror  over  her  shoulder  to  see  that  feminine  curiosity  was 
not  dangerously  alert.  "  You  will  ruin  me,"  she  whispered, 
"  if  you  don't  be  calm."  Then  Olympia  suddenly  recovered 
herself,  sobbing  behind  her  handkerchief.  "  He  has  been  at 
my  house  two  weeks.  He  left  yesterday  and  is  now  with 
Major  Atterbury's  family  on  the  James  Eiver,  near  Williams- 
burg.  Miss  Atterbury  came  herself  to  take  him  there  yes- 
terday morning.  I  saw  your  name  in  The  Examiner  only 
an  hour  ago,  and  I  came  at  once  to  relieve  the  distress  I 
knew  you  must  be  suffering." 

Then  the  kind  soul  told  the  story,  charging  the  sister 
never  to  reveal  the  facts.  She  withdrew  very  happy  and 
contented,  for  Olympia  had  said  many  tender  things ;  she  al- 
most felt  that  she  had  done  the  Confederacy  a  great  service, 
to  have  laid  so  many  people  under  an  obligation  that  might 
in  the  future  result  in  something  remarkable  for  the  cause. 

Olympia's  purpose  of  breaking  the  news  gradually  to  the 
invalid  was  frustrated  by  her  tell-tale  eyes  and  buoyant 
movements. 

"O  Olympia,  you  have  seen  John!  "  she  screamed,  start- 
ing up — "  where  is  he  ?  Oh,  where  is  he  ?  I  know  you  have 
seen  him ! "  And  then  there  were  subdued  laughter  and 
tears,  and  mamma  instantly  declared  her  intention  of  flying 
to  the  hero.  But  there  was  considerable  diplomacy  still 
requisite.  Mrs.  Raines  must  not  be  compromised,  and 
young  Bevan  must  get  transportation  for  them  to  the  Atter- 
burys.  It  was  past  noon  when  the  carriage  came  for  them. 
Olympia  had  come  down-stairs  to  give  Mrs.  Bevan  final  in- 
struction regarding  letters  and  luggage,  when  a  resounding 
knock  came  upon  the  door.  Mrs.  Bevan  opened  it  herself, 
and  Olympia,  standing  in  the  hall,  heard  a  well-known 
voice,  quick,  eager,  joyous  : 

"  Is  Mrs.  Sprague,  here  ? 

"  O  Richard,"  Olympia  cried,  rushing  at  him — ''  ah,  you 
darling  boy  ! — Aunt  Merry — Aunt  Merry  !  Come — come 


140  THE   IRON   GAME. 

quick!  He  is  here."  But  Aunt  Merry  at  the  head  of  the 
stairs  had  heard  the  voice,  and  Dick,  tearing  himself  uugal- 
lantly  from  the  embrace  of  beauty,  was  up  the  stairs  in  four 
leaps  and  in  the  arms  of  the  fainting  spinster. 

"It  is  Miss  Perley's  nephew,"  Olympia  said,  joyously,  to 
the  amazed  lady  of  the  house,  who  stood  speechless.  "We 
had  given  up  all  hope  of  seeing  him,  as  his  name  was  not 
on  our  army  list.  He  ran  away  to  be  with  my  brother,  and 
we  felt  like  murderers,  as  you  may  imagine,  and  are  almost 
as  much  relieved  to  find  him  as  our  own  flesh  and  blood." 

The  subsequent  conversation  between  the  matron  and 
the  young  girl  seemed  to  put  the  mistress  of  the  house  in 
excellent  humor,  and  when. the  carriage  drove  off  she  kissed 
all  the  ladies  quite  as  rapturously  as  if  she  had  never  vowed 
undying  hatred  and  vengeance  upon  the  Yankee  people. 
In  the  carriage  the  prodigal  Dick  rattled  off  the  story  of 
his  adventures.  He  had  come  to  Company  K  after  Jack 
had  been  sent  out  on  the  skirmish-line.  He  had  followed  in 
wild  despair  the  direction  pointed  out  to  him.  He  had  lost 
his  way  until  he  met  Colonel  Sherman's  orderlies.  They 
had  told  him  where  the  company,  was  halted  on  the  banks 
of  the  stream. 

When  he  reached  the  place  indicated  he  learned  of  Jack's 
detail  to  the  extreme  right  of  the  army.  He  dared  not  set 
out  openly  to  follow.  He  ran  back  in  the  bushes,  out  of 
sight,  and  then  by  a  detour  struck  the  stream  far  above  to 
the  right.  The  volleys  away  to  the  west  guided  him,  and  he 
tore  forward,  bruising  his  flesh  and  tearing  his  raiment  to 
tatters.  The  stream  seemed  too  deep  to  cross,  for  a  mile  or 
more,  but  finally,  finding  that  the  firing  seemed  to  go  swiftly 
to  the  southward,  he  plunged  in.  The  banks  on  the  other 
side  were  rugged  and  precipitous,  and  he  was  obliged  to  push 
on  in  the  morass  that  the  stream  wound  through.  But  na- 
ture gave  out,  and  on  a  sunny  slope  he  sat  down  to  rest.  He 
soon  fell  into  a  sound  sleep,  and.  when  he  woke  there  was 
noise  of  men  laughing  and  shouting  about  him.  He  started 
to  his  feet. 

"  Hello !  buster,"  a  voice  said  near  him.     "  What  are  you 


UNDER   TWO  FLAGS.  141 

doin'  away  from  yer  mammy  ?  Reckon  she'll  think  the 
Yanks  have  got  you  if  you  ain't  home  for  bedtime." 

The  man  who  said  this  was  lying  peacefully  under  a 
laurel-bush.  Others  were  sprawled  about,  feasting  on  the 
spoil  of  Union  haversacks. 

"  I  knew  then  that  I  was  in  a  rebel  camp,"  Dick  continued, 
"  but  I  wasn't  afraid,  because  my  clothes  were  not  military ; 
and,  even  if  they  had  been,  they  were  so  torn  and  muddy,  no 
one  would  have  thought  of  them  as  a  uniform.  But,  for  that 
matter,  a  good  many  of  the  rebels  had  blue  trousers ;  and,  as 
for  regimentals,  there  really  were  none,  as  we  have  them.  I 
made  believe  that  I  lived  in  the  neighborhood,  imitated  the 
Southern  twang,  and  was  set  to  work  right  away  helping  the 
company  cook.  The  firing  was  still  going  on  very  near  us,  to 
the  south,  west,  and  east.  But  the  men  didn't  seem  to  mind 
it  much.  In  about  a  half -hour  there  was  a  sudden  move. 

"  A  volley  was  poured  into  us  from  the  east,  and  in  an  in- 
stant all  the  graybacks  were  in  commotion.  I  heard  the  offi- 
cers shout :  '  We  are  surrounded  !  Die  at  your  post,  men ! ' 
But  the  men  didn't  want  to  die  at  their  posts,  or  anywhere  else, 
but  made  off  like  frightened  rabbits.  In  a  few  minutes  we 
were  all  marching  between  two  lines  of  Richardson's  Union 
brigade.  I  had  no  trouble  in  stepping  out,  and  then  I  pushed 
on  in  Jack's  direction.  But  I  could  not  find  him  when  I 
got  to  Hunter's  headquarters.  An  orderly  remembered  see- 
ing him,  or  rather  seeing  the  men  that  brought  the  good 
news  that  Sherman  was  on  the  rebel  side  of  the  stone  bridge 
early  in  the  battle.  There  I  found  an  orderly  of  Franklin's, 
who  had  seen  two  men  I  described,  sent  off  to  the  right  to 
picket,  until  the  cavalry  could  be  sent  there.  I  came  upon 
Nick  Marsh  near  the  general's  headquarters,  and  he  told 
me  the  direction  the  others  had  gone,  but  urged  me  to 
remain  with  him — as  Jack  would  surely  be  back  there, 
horsemen  having  ridden  out  in  that  direction  to  relieve 
him.  I  don't  know  how  far  I  went,  but  it  must  have  been 
a  mile. 

"There  I  had  to  lie  in  the  bushes,  for  two  columns  of 
troops  were  coming  and  going,  the  flying  fellows  that  Sher- 


142  THE  IRON  GAME. 

man  had  routed  near  the  stone  bridge  and  the  re-enforce- 
ments that  were  tearing  up  from  the  Manassas  Bail  way .  The 
men  coming  were  laughing  and  singing  as  they  ran.  The 
men  flying  were  silent,  and  seemed  too  frightened  to  notice 
the  forces  coming  to  their  support.  I  broke  out  of  the  bush- 
es and  ran  toward  the  line  of  thick  trees  that  seemed  to  mark 
the  course  of  the  river.  As  I  came  out  on  a  deep  sandy  road 
I  ran  right  into  troops,  halting.  There  were  great  cheering 
and  hurrah  ;  then  a  cavalcade  of  civilians  came  through 
the  rushing  ranks  at  a  gallop.  '  Hurrah  for  President  Da- 
vis !  Hip,  hip,  hurrah ! '  I  saw  him.  He  was  riding  a  splen- 
did gray  horse,  and  as  the  men  broke  into  shouts  he  raised 
his  hat  and  bowed  right  and  left.  He  was  stopped  for  a  few 
minutes  just  in  front  of  where  I  stood,  or,  rather,  I  ran  to 
where  he  halted.  There  were  long  trains  of  wounded  filing 
down  the  road,  and  men  without  guns,  knapsacks,  or  side- 
arms,  breaking  through  the  bushes  on  all  sides. 

'"They've  routed  us,  Mr.  President,'  a  wounded  officer 
cried,  as  the  stretcher  upon  which  he  was  lying  passed  near 
Jeff  Davis. 

"'What  part  of  the  field  are  you  from  ?'  Davis  asked, 
huskily. 

" '  Bartow's  brigade,  stone  bridge.  They've  captured  all 
our  guns,  and  are  pouring  down  on  the  fords.  You  will  be 
in  danger  Mr.  President,  if  you  continue  northward  a  hun- 
dred yards.' 

"  Sure  enough,  there  was  a  mighty  cheer,  hardly  a  half-mile 
to  the  north  of  us,  and  clouds  of  dust  arose  in  the  air.  Davis 
watched  the  movement  through  his  glass,  and,  turning  to  a 
horseman  at  his  side,  cried,  exultantly : 

"'The  breeze  is  from  the  northwest;  that  dust  is  going 
toward  the  Warrenton  Pike.  Johnston  has  got  up  in  time ; 
we've  won  the  day ! ' 

"  With  this  he  put  spurs  to  his  horse,  and  the  squadron 
halted  on  the  road  set  off  at  a  wild  gallop.  The  words  of 
the  President  were  repeated  from  man  to  man,  and  then  a 
mighty  shout  broke  out.  It  seemed  to  clip  the  leaves  from 
the  trees,  as  I  saw  them  cut,  an  hour  or  two  before,  by 


UNDER  TWO  FLAGS.  143 

the  swarming  volleys  of  musketry.     A  horseman  suddenly 
broke  from  a  path  just  behind  where  I  was. 

" '  Is  President  Davis  here  ? '  he  asked,  riding  close  to  me, 
but  not  halting. 

"  '  He  has  just  ridden  off  yonder.'  I  pointed  toward  the 
cloud  of  dust  east  and  north  of  us. 

"  '  Split  your  throats,  boys !  General  Beauregard  has  just 
sent  me  to  the  President  to  welcome  him  with  the  news  that 
the  Yankees  are  licked  and  flying  in  all  directions !  Not  a 
man  of  them  can  escape.  General  Longstreet  is  on  their 
rear  at  Centreville.' 

"  There  were  deafening,  crazy  shouts ;  hats,  canteens, 
even  muskets,  were  flung  in  the  air,  and  the  wounded,  lying 
on  the  ground,  were  struck  by  some  of  these  things  as  they 
fell,  in  a  cloud,  about  them.  The  shouts  grew  louder  and 
louder,  they  rose  and  fell,  far,  far  away  right  and  left. 
Everybody  embraced  everybody  else.  Men  who  had  been 
limping  and  despondent  before  broke  into  wild  dances  of 
joy.  Everybody  wanted  to  go  toward  the  field  of  battle 
now,  but  a  provost  guard  filed  down  the  road  presently,  and 
in  a  few  minutes  I  saw  a  sight  that  made  tears  of  rage  and 
shame  blind  me.  Whole  regiments  of  blue-coats  came  at 
a  quick-step  through  the  dusty  roadway,  the  rebel  guards 
prodding  them  brutally  with  their  bayonets.  The  fellows 
near  me,  who  had  been  running  from  the  fight,  set  up  insult- 
ing cheers  and  cat-calls. 

" '  Did  you'ns  leave  a  lock  of  your  hair  with  old  Mas'r 
Lincoln  ? ' 

"  '  Come  down  to  Dixie  to  marry  niggers,  have  ye  ? '  and 
scores  of  taunts  more  insulting  and  obscene.  Our  men  never 
answered.  They  were  worn  and  dusty.  They  had  no  weap- 
ons, of  course,  for  the  first  thing  the  rebels  did  was  to  search 
every  man,  take  his  money,  watch,  studs,  even  his  coat  and 
shoes,  when  they  were  better  than  their  own.  Hundreds  of 
our  men  were  in  their  stocking-feet,  or,  rather,  in  their  bare 
feet,  as  they  tramped  wearily  through  the  burning  sand  and 
twisted  roots.  I  heard  one  of  the  rebels  near  me,  an  officer, 
say  that  the  prisoners  were  all  going  to  the  junction  to  take 
10 


144  THE   IBON   GAME. 

the  cars.  President  Davis  had  ordered  that  they  should  be 
marched  through  the  streets  of  Richmond  to  show  the  people 
of  the  capital  the  extent  of  the  victory.  Then  the  thought 
flashed  into  my  head  that  if  our  army  had  been  captured, 
my  best  chance  of  finding  Jack  would  be  to  follow  to  Rich- 
mond and  watch  the  bluecoats.  I  easily  slipped  among  the 
prisoners,  came  to  the  city  and  saw  every  man  that  went  to 
Castle  Winder.  But  no  one  that  I  knew  was  among  them, 
and  I  made  up  my  mind  that  Jack  had  escaped.  I  saw  Wes- 
ley Boone's  father  and  sister  at  the  Spottswood  House  yester- 
day, but  I  was  too  late  to  catch  them,  and,  when  1  asked  the 
clerk  at  the  desk,  he  said  they  had  taken  quarters  in  the 
town — he  didn't  know  where." 

"  That's  a  fact,"  Olympia  exclaimed ;  "  they  left  Washing- 
ton before  us.  I  wonder  if  they  found  Wesley  ?  " 

*'I  don't  know,"  Dick  continued.  "The  officers  were 
brought  in  a  gang  by  themselves,  and  I  didn't  see  them. 
Well,  I  hung  about  the  town,  visiting  all  the  places  I  thought 
it  likely  Jack  might  be,  and  then  I  joined  a  cavalry  company 
that  belonged  to  Early's  brigade,  at  Manassas.  I  was  going 
there  with  them  this  morning  to  get  back  to  our  lines  and  find 
Jack,  when  I  saw  the  paragraph  in  The  Examiner,  telling 
of  your  coming  and  whereabouts." 


CHAPTER  XV. 

ROSEDALE. 

"  WHAT  an  intrepid  young  brave  you  are,  Dick ! "  Olym- 
pia cried,  as  the  artless  narrative  came  to  an  end. 

"  What  a  cruel  boy,  to  leave  his  family  and — and — run 
into  such  dreadful  danger !  "  Merry  expostulated. 

"  What  a  devoted  boy,  to  risk  his  life  and  liberty  for  our 
poor  Jack!"  Mrs.  Sprague  said,  bending  forward  to  stroke 
the  tow-head.  The  carriage  passed  down  the  same  road  that 


ROSEDALE.  ^45 

Jack  had  gone  the  day  before,  whistling  sarcasms  at  his 
keeper.  At  Harrison's  Landing  thei  e  was  a  delay  of  several 
hours,  and  the  impatient  party  wandered  on  the  shores  of 
the  majestic  James — glittering,  like  a  sylvan  lake,  in  its  rich 
border  of  woodland.  The  sun  was  too  hot  to  permit  of  the  ex- 
cursion Dick  suggested,  and  late  in  the  afternoon  the  wheezy 
ferry  carried  them  down  the  lake-like  stream.  On  every 
hand  there  were  signs  of  peace — not  a  fort,  not  a  breastwork 
gave  token  that  this  was  in  a  few  months  to  be  the  shambles 
of  mighty  armies,  the  anchorage  of  that  new  wonder,  the 
iron  battle-ship;  the  scene  of  McClellan's  miraculous  vic- 
tory at  Malvern,  of  Grant's  slaughtering  grapplmgs  with  re- 
bellion at  bay,  of  Butler's  comic  joustings,  and  the  last  des- 
perate onslaughts  of  Hancock's  legions.  The  air,  tempered 
by  the  faint  flavor  of  salt  in  the  water,  filled  the  travelers 
with  an  intoxicating  vigor,  lent  strength  to  their  jaded 
forces,  which,  while  tense  with  expectation,  could  not  wholly 
resist  the  delicious  aroma,  the  lovely  outlines  of  primeval 
forest,  the  melody  of  strange  birds,  startled  along  the  shore 
by  the  wheezy  puffing  of  the  ferry.  There  were  cries  of  ad- 
miring delight  as  the  carriage  ran  from  the  long  wooden 
pier  into  the  dim  arcade  of  sycamore  and  pine,  through 
which  the  road  wound,  all  the  way  to  Rosedale.  Then  they 
emerged  into  a  gentle,  rolling,  upland,  where  cultivated 
fields  spread  far  into  the  horizon,  and  in  the  distance  a  dense 
grove,  which  proved  to  be  the  park  about  the  house.  The 
coming  of  the  carriage  was  a  signal  to  a  swarm  of  small 
black  urchins  to  scramble,  grinning  and  delighted,  to  the 
wide  lawn.  There  was  no  need  to  sound  the  great  knocker ; 
no  need  to  explain,  when  Rosalind,  hurrying  to  the  door, 
saw  Olympia  emerging  from  the  vehicle.  They  had  not 
seen  each  other  in  four  years,  but  they  were  in  each  other's 
arms — laughing,  sobbing — exclaiming : 

"  How  did  you  know  ?    When  did  you  come  ? " 
"  Jack,  Jack !    Where  is  he  ?    How  is  he  ? " 
"  Jack's  able  to  eat,"  Rosa  cried,  darting  down  to  embrace 
Mrs.  Sprague,  and  starting  with  a  little  cry  of  wonder  as 
Aunt  Merry  exclaimed,  timidly: 


146  THE  IRON   GAME. 

"  We're  all  here.  You've  captured  the  best  part  of  Acre- 
dale,  though  you  haven't  got  Washington  yet." 

"Why,  how  delightful!  We  shall  think. it  is  Acredale," 
Rosa  cried,  welcoming  the  blushing  lady.  "  And — I  should 
say,  if  he  were  not  so  much  like— like  '  we  uns,'  that  this 
was  my  old  friend,  the  naughty  Richard,"  she  said,  welcom- 
ing the  blushing  youth  cordially.  (Dick  avowed  afterward, 
in  confidence  to  Jack,  that  she  would  have  kissed  him  if 
he  hadn't  held  back,  remembering  his  unkempt  condition.) 
Mamma  and  Olympia  were  shown  up  to  the  door  of  Jack's 
room,  where  Rosalind  very  discreetly  left  them,  to  introduce 
the  other  guests  to  Mrs.  Atterbury,  attracted  to  the  place  by 
the  unwonted  sounds.  When  presently  the  visitors  were 
shown  into  Vincent's  room,  Jack  called  out  to  them  to  come 
and  see  valor  conquered  by  love ;  and,  when  they  entered, 
mamma  was  brushing  her  eyes  furtively,  while  she  still 
held  Jack's  unwounded  hand  under  the  counterpane.  Mas- 
ter Dick  excited  the  maternal  alarm  by  throwing  himself 
rapturously  on  the  wounded  hero  and  giving  him  the  kiss 
he  had  denied  Rosalind.  Indeed,  he  showered  kisses  on  the 
abashed  hero,  whose  eyes  were  suspiciously  sparkling  at  the 
evidence  of  the  boy's  delight.  He  established  himself  in 
Jack's  room,  and  no  urging,  prayer,  or  reproof  could  induce 
him  to  quit  his  hero's  sight. 

"  I  Jost  him  once,"  he  said,  doggedly,  "  and  I'm  not  going 
to  lose  him  again.  Where  he  goes,  I'm  going;  where  he 
stays,  I'll  stay— sha'n't  I,  Jack  ?  " 

"  You  shall,  indeed,  my  dauntless  Orestes  ;  you  shall 
share  my  fortunes,  whatever  they  be." 

He  insisted  on  a  cot  in  the  room,  and  there,  during  the 
convalescence  of  his  idol,  he  persisted  in  sleeping — ruling 
all  who  had  to  do  with  the  invalid  in  his  own  capri- 
cious humor,  hardly  excepting  Mrs.  Sprague,  whom  he 
tolerated  with  some  impatience.  Letters  were  dispatched 
northward  to  relieve  the  anxiety  of  Pliny  and  Phemie,  as 
well  as  the  Marshes.  But  it  hung  heavily  on  Jack's  heart 
that  no  trace  of  Barney  had  been  found.  Advertisements 
were  sent  to  the  Richmond  papers,  and  he  waited  in 


ROSEDAL^.  147 

restless  impatience  for  some  sign  of  the  kind  lad's  well- 
being. 

"  Well,  Jack,  this  isn't  much  like  the  pomp  and  circum- 
stance of  glorious  war,"  Olympia  cried,  the  next  morning, 
coming  in  from  an  excursion  about  the  "  plantation,"  as  she 
insisted  on  calling  the  estate,  attended  by  Merry,  Rosa,  and 
Dick.  "  I  never  saw  such  foliage !  The  roses  are  as  large  as 
sunflowers,  and  there  are  whole  fields  of  them!  " 

"Yes;  I  believe  the  Atterburys  make  merchandise  of 
them." 

"But  who  buys  them  about  here  ?  They  seem  to  grow 
wild— as  fine  in  form  and  color  as  our  hot-house  varieties. 
Surely  they  are  not  bought  by  the  colored  people,  and  there 
seems  to  be  no  one  else — no  other  inhabitants,  I  mean." 

"  Oh,  no;  they  are  shipped  North  in  the  season  for  them; 
but  I  don't  think  the  family  has  paid  much  attention  to  that 
branch  of  the  business  of  late  years.  Their  revenues  come 
from  tobacco  and  cotton.  Their  cotton-fields  are  in  South 
Carolina  and  along  the  Atlantic  coast." 

"  And  are  these  colored  people  all  slaves  ? "  Her  voice 
sank  to  a  whisper,  for  Vincent's  door  was  ajar. 

"  Yes,  every  man  jack  of  them.  Did  you  ever  see  such 
merry  rogues  ?  They  laugh  and  sing  half  the  night,  and 
sing  and  work  half  the  day." 

"  They  don't  seem  unhappy,  that's  a  fact,"  Olympia  said, 
reflectively,  "but  I  should  think  ownership  in  flesh  and 
blood  would  harden  people;  and  yet  the  Atterburys  are 
very  kind  and  gentle.  I  saw  tears  in  Mrs.  Atterbury's  eyes, 
yesterday,  when  mamnia  was  sitting  here  with  you." 

"  Yes,"  Jack  said,  unconsciously,  "  women  enjoy  crying — ' 

"  You  insufferable  braggart,  how  dare  you  talk  like  that  ? 
Pray,  what  do  you  know  about  women's  likes  and  dislikes  ? " 

"  Oh,  I  beg  pardon,  Polly ;  I'm  sure  I  didn't  mean  any- 
thing— I  was  taking  the  minor  for  the  major.  All  women 
like  babies;  babies  pass  most  of  their  time  crying;  therefore 
women  like  crying." 

"  Well,  if  that  is  the  sum  of  your  college  training,  it  is  a 
good  thing  the  war  came — " 


148  THE   IRON   GAME. 

"  "What  about  the  war  ?  No  treason  in  Rosedale,  remem- 
ber ! "  Vincent  shouted  from  the  next  room.  "  You  pledged 
me  that  when  you  talked  war  you  would  talk  in  open  as- 
sembly." The  voice  neared  the  open  doorway  as  he  spoke. 
The  servant  had  moved  the  invalid's  cot,  where  Vincent 
could  look  in  on  Jack. 

"  There  was  really  no  war  talk,  Vint,  except  such  war  as 
women  always  raise,  contention — ' 

"  I  object,  Jack,  to  your  generalization,"  Olympia  retort- 
ed. "  It  is  a  habit  of  boyishness  and  immaturity. — He  said 
a  moment  ago  "  (she  turned  to  Vincent)  "  that  women  loved 
crying,  and  then  sneaked  out  by  a  very  shallow  evasion." 

"  I'll  leave  it  to  Vint :  All  women  love  babies ;  babies 
do  nothing  but  cry;  therefore,  women  love  crying;  there 
couldn't  be  a  syllogism  more  irrefutable." 

"  Unless  it  be  that  all  women  love  liars,"  Vincent  vent- 
ured, jocosely. 

"  How  do  you  prove  that  ? " 

"  All  men  are  liars ;  women  love  men ;  therefore—" 

"  Oh,  pshaw !  you  have  to  assume  in  that  premise.  I 
don't  in  mine.  It  is  notorious  that  women  love  babies, 
while  you  have  only  the  spiteful  saying  of  a  very  uncertain 
old  prophet  for  your  major — " 

"  Whose  major  ? "  Rosa  asked,  appearing  suddenly.  "  I'll 
have  you  to  know,  sir,  that  this  major  is  mamma's,  and  no 
one  else  can  have,  hold,  or  make  eyes  at  him." 

"  It  was  the  major  in  logic  we  were  making  free  with," 
Jack  mumbled,  laughing.  "  I  hope  logic  isn't  a  heresy  in 
your  new  Confederacy,  as  religion  was  in  the  French  Con- 
stitution of  '93  ? " 

Rosa  looked  at  Olympia,  a  little  perplexed,  and,  seating 
herself  on  the  cot  with  Vincent,  where  she  could  caress  him 
furtively,  said,  with  piquant  deliberation : 

"  I  don't  know  about  logic,  but  we've  got  everything 
needed  to  make  us  happy  in  the  Montgomery  Constitution." 

"  Have  you  read  it  ? "  Jack  asked,  innocently. 

"  How  insulting !  Of  course  I  have.  I  read  it  the  very 
first  thing  when  it  appeared  in  the  newspapers." 


ROSED  ALE.  149 

"  Catch  our  Northern  women  doing  that ! "  Jack  inter- 
jected, loftily.  "  There  is  my  learned  sister,  she  doesn't 
know  the  Constitution  from  Plato's  Dialogues." 

"Indeed,  I  do  not;  nor  do  I  know  Plato's  Dialogues," 
Olympia  returned,  quite  at  ease  in  this  state  of  ignorance. 

"  Wherein  does  the  Montgomery  Constitution  differ  from 
the  old  one  ?  "  Jack  asked,  looking  at  Vincent. 

"  I'm  blessed  if  I  know.  I've  read  neither.  I  did  read  the 
Declaration  of  Independence  once  at  a  Fourth-of-July  bar- 
becue. I  always  thought  that  was  the  Constitution.  Indeed, 
every  fellow  about  here  does!  You  know  in  the  South  the 
women  do  all  the  thinking  for  the  men.  Rosa  keeps  my 
political  conscience." 

"  Well,  then,  Lord  High  Chancellor,  tell  us  the  vital  ar- 
ticles in  the  Montgomery  document  that  have  inspired  you 
to  arm  Mars  for  the  conflict,  plunge  millions  into  strife  and 
thousands  into  hades,  as  Socrates  would  have  said,  employ- 
ing his  method  ? "  Jack  continued  derisively. 

*'  Our  Constitution  assures  us  the  eternal  right  to  own  our 
own  property." 

"  Slaves  ? " 

"Yes." 

"  No  one  denied  you  that  right,  so  far  as  the  law  went, 
under  the  old;  it  was  only  the  justice,  the  humanity,  that 
was  questioned.  The  right  would  have  endured  a  hundred 
years,  perhaps  forever,  if  you  had  kept  still—" 

"  Come,  Jack,  I  won't  listen  to  politics,"  Olympia  cried, 
with  a  warning  look. 

"  No,  the  time  for  talk  is  past;  it  is  battle,  and  God  defend 
the  right!"  Rosa  said,  solemnly. 

"And  you  may  be  sure  he  will,"  Jack  added,  softly,  as 
though  to  himself. 

"  But  we've  got  far  away  from  the  crying  and  the  babies," 
Vincent  began,  when  Jack  interrupted,  fervently : 

"Thank  Heaven!" 

"  You  monster!  "  the  two  girls  cried  in  a  breath. 

"  No,  I  can't  conceive  a  sillier  paradox  than  '  A  babe  in 
the  house  is  a  well-spring  of  joy.'  A  woman  must  have 


150  THE   IllOX   GAME. 

written  it  first.  Now,  my  idea  of  perfect  happiness  for  a 
house  is  to  have  two  wounded  warriors  like  Vincent  and  me, 
tractable,  amiable,  always  ready  to  join  in  rational  conver- 
sation and  make  love  if  necessary,  providing  we're  encour- 
aged." 

"  Really,  Olympia,  your  Northern  men  are  not  what  I 
fancied,"  Rosa  cried,  with  a  laugh. 

"  What  did  you  fancy  them  ? " 

"  Oh,  ever  so  different,  from  this — this  saucy  fellow — 
modest,  timid,  shy;  needing  ever  so  much  encouragement 
to— to— " 

"  Claim  their  due  ?  "  Jack  added,  slyly. 

"  Well,  there  is  one  that  doesn't  require  much  encourage- 
ment to  claim  everything  that  comes 'in  his  way,"  Rosa  re- 
torts, and  Olympia  adds  : 

"  And  to  spare  my  feelings  you  won't  name  him  now." 

11  Exactly,"  said  Rosa. 

"How  touching!"  exclaimed  Vincent. 

"  I  left  all  my  blood  to  enrich  your  soil,  or  I'd  blush,"  re- 
plied Jack. 

''  Oh,  no ;  it  won't  enrich  the  soil ;  it  will  bring  out  a  crop 
of  Johnny  Jump-ups,  a  weed  that  we  don't  relish  in  the 
South,"  retorted  Rosa. 

"  Ah,  Jack,  you're  hit  there ! — Rosa,  I'm  proud  of  you. 
This  odious  Yankee  needs  combing  down ;  he  ran  over  us  so 
long  at  college  that  he  is  conceited  in  his  own  impudence," 
and  Vincent  exploded  in  shouts  of  laughter. 

''  I  fear  you're  not  a  botanist,  Miss  Rosa.  It's  '  Jack  in 
the  pulpit '  that  will  spring  from  Northern  blood,  and  they'll 
preach  such  truths  that  the  very  herbage  will  bring  the  les- 
son of  liberty  and  toleration  to  you." 

"  What  is  this  very  serious  discussion,  my  children  ? " 
Mrs.  Atterbury  said,  beaming  sweetly  upon  the  group.  "  I 
couldn't  imagine  what  had  started  Vincent  in  such  boister- 
ous laughter  ;  and  now,  that  I  come,  Mr.  Jack  is  as  serious 
as  we  were  at  school  when  Madame  Clarice  told  us  of  our 
sins." 

''  Jack  was  telling  his,  mamma,  and  that  is  still  more 


ROSEDALE.  151 

serious  than  to  hear  one's  own,"  Vincent  said,  grinning  at 
the  moralist. 

u  But,  to  be  serious  a  moment,  I  have  written  to  my  old 
friend  General  Robert  Lee,  of  Arlington,  about  Miss  Perley. 
I  know  that  he  will  grant  her  permission  to  take  Richard 
home  with  her,  and  the  question  now  is  whether  it  is  safe  to 
let  them  go  together  alone  ? "  Mrs.  Atterbury  addressed  the 
question  to  Olympia,  making  no  account  of  Jack. 

"  Oh,  let  us  leave  the  decision  until  you  get  General  Lee's 
answer.  If  they  get  the  message  in  Acredale  that  Dick  is 
safe  and  sound,  I  don't  see  why  they  need  go  back  before  we 
do.  I  shall  be  able  to  travel  in  a  few  weeks.  If  the  roads 
were  not  so  rickety  I  wouldn't  be  afraid  to  set  out  now," 
Jack  answered. 

"  Impossible  !  You  can't  leave  for  a  month  yet,  if  then," 
Vincent  proclaimed,  authoritatively.  "I  know  what  gun- 
shot wounds  are  :  you  think  they  are  healed,  and  begin 
fooling  about,  when  you  find  yourself  laid  up  worse  than 
ever.  There's  no  hurry.  The  campaign  can't  begin  before 
October.  I'm  as  anxious  to  be  back  as  you  are,  but  I  don't 
mean  to  stir  before  October.  Perhaps  you  think  it  will  be 
dull  here  ?  Just  wait  until  you  are  strong  enough  to  knock 
about  a  bit  ;  we  shall  have  royal  rides.  We'll  go  to  Will- 
iamsburg  and  see  the  oldest  college  in  the  country.  We'll 
go  down  the  James,  and  you  shall  see  some  of  the  richest 
lands  in  the  world.  We'll  get  a  lot  of  fellows  out  from 
Richmond  and  have  our  regular  barbecue  in  September. 
We  wind  up  the  season  here  every  year  with  a  grand  dance, 
and  Olympia  shall  lead  the  Queen  Anne  minuet  with  mam- 
ma's kinsman,  General  Lee,  who  is  the  President's  chief  of 
staff." 

"  This  doesn't  sound  much  like  soldiering,"  Jack  said, 
dreamily. 

"  No.  When  in  the  field,  let  us  fight  ;  when  at  home,  let 
us  be  merry." 

"  A  very  proper  sentiment,  young  men.  We  want  you 
to  be  very  merry,  for  you  must  remember  the  time  comes 
when  we  can't  be  anything  but  sad — when  you  are  away 


152  TIIE  IRON  GAME- 

and  the  night  of  doubt  settles  upon  our  weak  women's 
hearts.''  It  was  Mrs.  Atterbury  who  spoke,  and  the  sentence 
seemed  to  bring  silence  upon  the  group. 

Meanwhile,  all  the  inquiries  set  on  foot  through  the 
agency  of  the  Atterbury s  failed  to  bring  any  tidings  of  Bar- 
ney Moore.  It  suddenly  occurred  to  Jack  that  the  poor  fel- 
low was  masquerading  as  a  rebel  in  the  bosom  of  some  eager 
patriot  like  Mrs.  Raines  and  he  reluctantly  consented  to  let 
Dick  go  to  Richmond  to  investigate.  Perhaps  Mrs.  Raines 
might  know  where  the  wounded  men  were  taken  that  had 
come  with  him.  Some  of  the  stragglers  could  at  least  be 
found.  The  advertisement  asking  information  concerning 
a  wounded  man  arriving  in  Richmond  with  himself  was 
kept  in  all  the  journals.  But  Merry  wouldn't  consent  to 
let  Dick  go  on  the  dangerous  quest  without  her.  She 
would  never  dare  face  her  sisters  if  any  mishap  came  to 
the  lad,  and,  though  Vincent  put  him  under  the  care  of  an 
experienced  overseer,  and  ordered  the  town-house  to  be 
opened  for  his  entertainment,  the  timorous  aunt  was  im- 
movable. 

'•You  must  go  and  call  on  the  President,  Miss  Merry. 
He  receives  Thursdays  at  the  State-House.  Then  you'll  see 
a  really  great  man  in  authority,  not  the  backwoods  clowns 
that  have  brought  this  country  into  ridicule— such  a  man  as 
Virginia  used  to  give  the  people  for  President,"  Rosa  said  in 
the  tone  a  lady  of  Louis  XVIII's  court  might  have  used  to 
an  adherent  of  the  Bonapartes. 

"  Ah,  Rosa,  we  saw  a  gentle,  tender-hearted  man  in  Wash- 
ington— the  very  ideal  of  a  people's  father.  No  one  else  can 
ever  be  President  to  me  while  he  lives,"  Olympia  said,  se- 
riously. 

"  Lincoln  ? "  Rosa  asked,  a  little  disdainfully. 

"Yes,  Abraham  Lincoln.  We  have  all  misunderstood 
him  Oh  if  you  could  have  seen  him  as  I  saw  him — so 
patient,  so  considerate  :  the  sorrows  of  the  nation  in  his 
heart  and  its  burdens  on  his  shoulders  ;  but  confident,  calm, 
serene,  with  the  benignant  humility  of  a  man  sent  by  God," 
Olympia  added  almost  reverently.  "  It  was  he  who  came  to 


ROSED  ALE.  153 

our  aid  and  ordered  the  rules  to  be  broken  that  our  mother 
might  seek  Jack." 

Rosa  was  about  to  retort,  but  a  warning  glance  from  Vin- 
cent checked  her,  and  she  said  nothing. 

"  I  say,  Dick,  don't  try  to  capture  Jeff  Davis  or  blow  up 
the  Confederate  Congress,  or  any  other  of  the  casual  master 
strokes  that  may  enter  your  wild  head.  Remember  that  we 
have  given  double  hostages  to  the  enemy.  We  have  ac- 
cepted their  hospitality,  and  we  have  made  ourselves  their 
guests,"  Jack  said,  half  seriously,  as  the  young  Hotspur 
wrung  his  hand  in  a  tearful  embrace. 

"Above  all,  remember,  Mr. -Yankee,  that  you  are  in  a 
certain  sense  a  civilian  now ;  you  must  not  compromise  us 
by  free  speech  in  Richmond,"  Rosa  added. 

"  Ah,  I  know  very  well  there's  none  of  that  in  the  South ; 
you  folks  object  to  free  speech  ;  they  killed  poor  old  Brown 
for  it  ;  that's  what  you  made  war  for,  to  silence  free  speech," 
Dick  cried  hotly,  while  Merry  pinched  his  arm  in  terror. 

Dick  began  his  campaign  in  the  morning  with  long- 
headed address.  He  visited  the  prison  under  ample  powers 
from  General  Lee— procured  though  Vincent's  mediation. 
There  were  a  score  of  the  Caribees  in  Castle  Winder,  and  to 
these  the  boy  came  as  a  good  fairy  in  the  tale.  For  he  dis- 
tributed money,  tobacco,  and  other  things,  which  enabled  the 
unfortunates  to  beguile  the  tedious  hours  of  confinement. 
The  prisoners  were  crowded  like  cattle  in  the  immense  ware- 
house in  squads  of  a  hundred  or  more.  They  had  blankets  to 
stretch  on  the  floor  for  beds,  a  general  basin  to  wash  in,  and 
for  some  time  amused  themselves  watching  through  the 
barred  windows  the  crowds  outside  that  flocked  to  the  place 
to  see  the  Yankees,  and,  when  not  checked  by  the  guards,  to 
revile  and  taunt  them. 

Dick  was  enraged  to  see  how  contentedly  the  men  bore 
the  irksome  confinement,  the  meager  food,  and  harsh  per- 
emptoriness  of  the  beardless  boys  set  over  them  as  guards. 
Most  of  the  prisoners  passed  the  time  in  cards,  playing  for 
buttons,  trinkets,  or  what  not  that  formed  their  scanty  pos- 
sessions. Dick  learned  that  all  the  commissioned  officers  of 


154  THE   IRON   GAME. 

the  company  with  Wesley  Boone  had  been  wounded  or  killed 
in  the  charge  near  the  stone  bridge.  Wesley  had  been  with 
the  prisoners  at  first..  He  had  been  struck  on  the  head,  and 
was  in  a  raging  fever  when  his  father  and  sister  came  to  the 
prison  to  take  him  away.  No  one  could  tell  where  he  was 
now,  but  Dick  knew  that  he  must  be  in  the  city,  since  there 
were  no  exchanges,  the  Confederates  allowing  no  one  to 
leave  the  lines  except  women  with  the  dead,  or  those  who 
came  from  the  North  on  special  permits. 

Then  he  visited  the  provost  headquarters,  and  was  shown 
the  complete  list  of  names  recorded  in  the  books  there  ;  but 
Barney's  was  not  among  them.  At  the  Spottswood  Hotel, 
the  day  after  his  coming,  he  met  Elisha  Boone,  haggard,  de- 
pressed, almost  despairing.  Dick  had  no  love  for  the  hard- 
headed  plutocrat,  but  he  couldn't  resist  making  himself 
known. 

"  How  d'ye  do,  Mr.  Boone  ?  I  hope  Wesley  is  coming  on 
well,  sir." 

Boone  brought  his  wandering  eyes  down  to  the  stripling 
in  dull  amazement. 

"Why,  where  on  earth  do  you  come  from?  How  is  it 
you  are  free  and  allowed  in  the  streets  ? " 

"  Oh,  I  am  a  privileged  person,  sir.  I  am  looking  up 
Company  K.  You  haven't  heard  anything  of  young  Moore, 
Barney,  who  lives  on  the  Callao  road  south  of  Acredale  ? " 

"No,  my  mind  has  been  taken  up  with  my  son";  his 
voice  grew  softer.  "  He  is  in  a  very  bad  way,  and  the 
worst  is  there  is  no  decent  doctor  to  be  got  here  for  love  or 
money;  all  the  capable  ones  are  in  the  army,  and  those  that 
are  here  refuse  to  take  any  interest  in  a  Yankee." 

The  father's  grief  and  the  unhappy  situation  of  his  whi- 
lom enemy  touched  the  lad ;  forgetting  Jack's  and  Vincent's 
warning,  Dick  said,  impulsively : 

"Oh,  I  can  get  him  a  good  doctor.  We  have  friends 
here."  He  knew,  the  moment  he  had  spoken  the  words, 
that  he  had  been. imprudent — how  imprudent  the  sudden, 
suspicious  gleam  in  Boone's  eye  at  once  admonished  him. 

"  Friends  here  ?  Union  men  have  no  friends  here.   There 


ROSEDALE.  155 

are  men  here  with  whom  I  have  done  business  for  years, 
men  that  owe  prosperity  to  me,  but  when  I  called  on  them 
they  almost  insulted  me.  If  you  have  friends,  you  must 
have  sympathies  that  they  appreciate." 

Dick  knew  what  this  meant.  To  be  a  Democrat  had  been, 
in  Acredale,  to  be  charged  with  secret  leanings  to  rebellion. 
He  restrained  his  wrath  manfully,  and  said,  simply : 

"  An  old  college  friend  of  Jack's  has  been  yery  kind  to  us." 

"  Us  ?  I  take  it  you  mean  the  Spragues.  They  are  stop- 
ping with  Jeff  Davis,  I  suppose  ?  It's  the  least  he  could  do 
for  allies  so  steadfast." 

"You  shouldn't  talk  that  way,  sir.  Every  man  in  the 
Caribees,  except  old  Oswald's  gang,  is  a  Democrat,  but  they 
are  for  the  country  before  party." 

"  Yes,  yes,  it  may  be  so — but,  the  North  don't  think  that 
way.  Well,  I'm  going  to  Washington  to  see  if  I  can't  get 
my  boy  out  of  this  infernal  place,  where  a  man  can't  even 
get  shaved  decently." 

"And  Miss  Kate,  Mr.  Boone,  where  is  she  ?" 

"She  is  nursing  Wesley,  poor  girl.  She  is  having  a 
harder  trial  than  any  of  us ;  for  these  devilish  women  fairly 
push  into  the  sick-room  to  abuse  the  North  and  berate  the 
soldiers  that  fought  at  Manassas." 

"I  should  like  to  call  on  Wesley — if  you  don't  mind," 
Dick  said,  hesitatingly. 

"I  shall  be  only  too  glad;  and  I'll  tell  you  what  it  is, 
Eichard,  if  you'll  make  use  of  your  friends  here,  to  get  Kate 
and  Wesley  some  comforts,  some  consideration,  I'll  make  it 
worth  your  while.  I'll  see  that  you  do  not  have  to  wait  long 
for  a  commission,  and  I'll  pay  you  any  reasonable  sum  so 
soon  as  you  get  back  North." 

Dick  restrained  his  anger  under  this  insulting  blow,  per- 
ceiving, even  in  the  hotness  of  his  wrath,  that  the  other  was 
unconscious  of  the  double  ignominy  implied  in  dealing  with 
soldiers'  rewards  as  personal  bribes,  and  proffering  money 
for  common  brotherly  offices.  It  was  only  when  Jack  com- 
mended his  astuteness,  afterward,  that  Dick  realized  the 
adroitness  of  his  own  diplomacy. 


15G  THE   IRON   GAME. 

"  Thank  you,  Mr.  Boone.  I  shouldn't  care  for  promotion 
that  I  didn't  win  in  war;  and,  as  for  money,  I  shall  have 
enough  when  I  need  it.  But  any  man  in  the  Caribees  shall 
have  my  help.  Under  the  flag  every  man  is  a  friend." 

"True.  Yes;  you  are  quite  right.  Kate  will  be  very 
glad  to  see  you." 

They  walked  along,  neither  disposed  to  talk  after  this 
narrow  shave  from  a  quarrel.  Booue  led  the  way  to  the 
northern  outskirts  of  the  city,  until  they  reached  a  dull- 
brown  frame  building,  back  some  distance  from  the  street. 
A  colored  woman,  with  a  flaming  turban  on  her  head,  opened 
the  door  as  she  saw  them  coming  up  the  trim  walk — lined 
with  shells  and  gay  with  poppies,  bergamot,  asters,  and  helio- 
trope. 

u  This  woman  is  a  slave.  She  belongs  to  the  proprietor 
of  the  hotel  who  refused  to  receive  Wesley.  It  was  a  great 
concession  to  let  him  come  here,  they  told  me.  But  the  poor 
boy  might  as  well  be  in  a  Michigan  logging  camp,  for  all  the 
care  he  can  get.  But  I'm  mighty  glad  I  met  you.  I  know 
you  can  help  Kate  while  I  am  gone.  I  hated  to  leave  her, 
but  I  can  do  nothing  here,  and  unless  Wesley  is  removed  he 
will  never  leave  this  cussed  town  alive.  I  sha'n't  be  gone 
more  than  ten  days." 

Kate  had  been  called  by  the  turbaned  mistress,  and  came 
into  the  room  with  a  little  shriek  of  pleasure. 

"O,  Richard,  what  a  delightful  surprise!  Have  you  seen 
your  aunt  ?  Ah !  I  am  so  glad ;  she  must  be  so  relieved ! 
And  Mr.  Sprague — have  they  found  him  ?" 

Dick  retailed  as  much  of  the  story  as  he  thought  safe,  but 
he  had  to  say  that  the  Spragues  were  all  with  the  Atterburys 
in  the  country. 

"  How  providential !  Ah,  if  our  poor  Wesley  could  find 
some  such  friends !  He  is  very  low.  He  recognizes  no  one. 
Unless  papa  can  get  leave  to  take  him  North — I  am  afraid  of 
the  worst.  Indeed,  I  doubt  whether  he  could  stand  so  long  a 
journey.  You  must  stay  the  day  with  us.  I  am  so  lonely, 
and  I  dread  being  more  lonely  still  when  papa  leaves  this 
evening." 


ROSED  ALE.  157 

Dick  remained  until  late  in  the  afternoon,  sending  word 
to  Merry,  who  came  promptly  to  the  aid  of  the  afflicted.  The 
next  day  Dick  left  his  aunt  at  the  cottage  with  Kate,  and 
warning  them  that  he  should  be  gone  all  day,  and  perhaps 
not  see  them  until  the  next  morning,  he  set  off  for  Rosedale, 
where  he  told  Jack  Kate's  plight.  Vincent  heard  the  story, 
too,  and  when  it  was  ended  he  said,  decisively : 

"  Jack,  we  must  send  for  them.  It  would  never  do  to 
have  the  story  told  in  Acredale  that  you  had  found  friends 
in  the  South — because  you  are  a  Democrat,  and  Boone  was 
thrust  into  negro  quarters  because  he  is  an  abolitionist." 

It  was  the  very  thought  on  Jack's  mind,  and  straightway 
the  carriage  was  made  ready,  with  ample  pillows  and  what 
not.  Dick  set  out  in  great  state,  filled  with  the  importance 
of  his  mission  and  the  glory  of  Jack's  cordial  praises.  He 
was  to  stop  on  the  way  through  town  and  carry  the  Atter- 
bury's  family  physician  to  direct  the  removal.  When  he 
appeared  before  Kate,  with  Mrs.  Atterbury's  commands  that 
she  and  her  brother  should  make  Rosedale  their  home  until 
the  invalid  could  be  removed  North,  the  poor  girl  broke 
down  in  the  sudden  sense  of  relief — the  certainty  of  .salvation 
to  the  slowly  dying  brother.  The  physician  spent  many 
hours  redressing  the  wounds.  Gangrene  had  begun  to  eat 
away  the  flesh  of  the  head  above  the  temple,  and  poor  Wes- 
ley was  unrecognizable.  He  was  quite  unconscious  of  the 
burning  bromine  and  the  clipping  of  flesh  that  the  skillful 
hand  of  the  practitioner  carried  on.  When  the  little  group 
started  on  the  long  journey,  the  invalid  looked  more  like 
himself  than  he  had  since  Kate  found  him.  The  drive  lasted 
many  hours.  Wesley  was  stretched  in  an  ambulance,  Kate 
sitting  on  the  seat  with  the  driver,  the  physician  and  Dick 
following  in  the  carriage.  Merry  went  back  to  the  city 
house,  where  her  nephew  was  to  return  as  soon  as  Wesley 
had  been  delivered  at  Rosedale.  Her  charge  placed  in  the 
hands  of  the  kind  hostess,  Mrs.  Atterbury,  Kate  broke  down. 
She  had  borne  up  while  her  head  and  heart  alone  stood  be- 
tween her  brother  and  death ;  but  now,  relieved  of  the  strain, 
she  fell  into  an  alarming  fever.  A  Williamsburg  veteran, 


158  THE   IRON   GAME. 

•who  had  practiced  in  that  ancient  college  town,  since  the 
early  days  of  the  century,  took  the  Richmond  surgeon's 
place,  and  the  gay  summer  house  became,  for  the  time,  a 
hospital. 

Meanwhile  the  rebel  provost-marshal  had  simplified  Dick's 
task  a  good  deal.  An  order  was  issued  that  all  houses  where 
wounded  or  ailing  men  were  lying  should  signalize  the  fact 
by  a  yellow  flag  or  ribbon,  attached  to  the  front  in  a  con- 
spicuous place.  Thus  directed,  Dick  walked  street  after 
street,  asking  to  see  the  wounded ;  and  the  fourth  day,  com- 
ing to  a  residence,  rather  handsomer  than  the  others  on  the 
street,  not  two  blocks  from  Mrs.  Raines,  Jack's  Samaritan, 
he  found  a  wasted  figure,  with  bandaged  head  and  unmean- 
ing eyes,  that  he  recognized  as  Barney. 

"  We  haven't  been  able  to  get  any  clew  as  to  his  name  or 
regiment.  The  guards  at  the  station  said  he  belonged  to  the 
Twelfth  Virginia,  but  none  of  the  members  of  that  body  in 
the  city  recognize  him.  You  know  him  ?  " 

"  Yes.  He  is  of  my  regiment,"  Dick  said,  neglecting  to 
mention  the  regiment.  "  I  will  send  word  to  his  friends  at 
once  and  have  him  removed." 

"  Oh,  we  are  proud  and  happy  to  have  him  here.  Our 
only  anxiety  was  lest  he  should  die  and  his  family  remain  in 
ignorance.  But,  now  that  you  identify  him,  we  hope  that 
we  may  be  permitted  to  keep  him  until  his  recovery." 

It  was  a  stately  matron  who  spoke  with  such  a  manner,  as 
Dick  thought,  must  be  the  mark  of  nobility  in  other  lands. 
He  learned,  with  surprise,  that  the  Atterbury  physician  was 
ministering  to  Barney,  though  there  was  nothing  strange  in 
that,  since  the  doctor  was  the  favorite  practitioner  of  the 
well-to-do  in  the  city.  That  night  he  wrote  to  Jack,  asking 
instructions,  and  the  next  day  received  a  note,  written  by 
Olympia,  advising  that  Barney  be  left  with  his  present  hosts 
until  he  recovered  consciousness ;  that  by  that  time  Vincent 
would  be  able  to  come  up  to  town  and  explain  matters  to  the 
deluded  family.  The  better  to  carry  out  this  plan,  Dick  was 
bidden  to  return  to  Rosedale,  and  thus,  six  weeks  after  the 
battle  and  dispersion,  all  our  Acredale  personages,  by  the 


A   MASQUE   IN   ARCADY.  159 

strange  chances  of  war,  were  assembled  within  sight  of  the 
rebel  capital,  and,  though  in  the  hands  of  friends,  as  abso- 
lutely cut  off  from  their  home  and  duties  as  if  they  had  been 
captured  in  a  combat  with  the  Indians. 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

A  MASQUE  IN  ARCADY. 

IN  the  latter  days  of  September,  the  life  at  Eosedale  was 
but  a  faint  reminder  of  the  hospital  it  had  seemed  in  August. 
The  young  men  were  able  to  take  part  in  all  the  simple 
gayeties  devised  by  Rosa  to  make  the  time  pass  agreeably. 
Wesley  was  still  subject  to»  dizziness  if  exposed  to  the  sun, 
but  Jack  and  Vincent  were  robust  as  lumbermen.  Mrs. 
Sprague  and  Merry  sighed  wearily  in  the  seclusion  of  their 
chambers  for  the  Northern  homeside,  but  they  banished  all 
signs  of  discontent  before  their  warm-hearted  hosts.  There 
was  as  yet  no  exchange  arranged  between  the  hostile  Cabi- 
nets of  Richmond  and  Washington.  Even  Booue's  potent 
influence  among  the  magnates  of  his  party  had  not  served 
him  to  effect  Wesley's  release  nor  enabled  him  to  return  to 
watch  over  the  boy's  fortunes.  There  was  no  one  at  Rose- 
dale  sorry  for  the  latter  calamity  outside  of  Wesley  and 
Kate.  I  believe  even  she  was  secretly  not  heart-broken,  for 
she  knew  that  her  father  would  be  antipathetic  to  the  out- 
spoken ladies  of  Rosedale. 

There  had  been  an  almost  total  suspension  of  military 
movements  East  and  West.  Both  sides  were  straining  every 
resource  to  bring  drilled  armies  into  the  field,  when  the 
decisive  blow  fell.  In  his  drives  and  walks  about  the  James 
and  Williamsburg,  Jack  saw  that  the  country  was  stripped 
of  the  white  male  population.  The  negroes  carried  on  all 
the  domestic  concerns  of  the  land.  In  these  excursions,  too, 
he  marked,  with  a  keen  military  instinct,  the  points  of  de- 
11 


160  THE  IRON   GAME. 

fense  General  Magruder,  who  commanded  the  department, 
had  left  untouched.  He  wondered  if  the  Union  arms  would 
ever  get  as  far  down  as  this.  If  they  did,  and  he  were  of 
the  force,  he  would  like  to  have  a  cavalry  regiment  to  lead ! 
Vincent  was  to  rejoin  his  command  at  Manassas  in  October. 
Jack  looked  forward  to  the  event  with  the  most  dismal  dis- 
content. To  be  tied  up  here,  far  from  his  companions ;  to 
seem  to  enjoy  ease,  when  his  regiment  was  indurating  itself 
by  drills,  marches,  and  the -rough  Life  of  the  soldier  for  the 
great  work  it  was  to  do,  maddened  him. 

"I  give  you  fair  warning,  Vint,  if  an  exchange  isn't  ar- 
ranged before  you  leave  here,  I  shall  cut  stick  the  best  way 
I  can." 

"  Good !  How  will  you  manage  ?  It's  a  long  pull  be- 
tween here  and  our  front  at  Manassas.  How  will  you  work 
it  ?  Just  as  soon  as  you  quit  the  shelter  of  Rosedale,  you 
are  a  suspect.  Even  the  negroes  will  halt  you.  If  you 
should  make  for  Fortress  Monroe,  you  have  all  of  Magruder's 
army  to  get  through.  You  would  surely  be  caught  in  the 
act,  and  then  I  could  do  nothing  for  you.  You  would  be 
sent  to  Castle  Winder,  and  that  isn't  a  very  comfortable 
billet." 

Some  hint  of  Jack's  discontent,  or  rather  of  his  vague 
dream  of  flight,  came  into  Dick's  busy  head,  and  when  one 
day  they  were  tramping  down  by  the  James  together,  he 
said,  owlishly: 

"  I  say,  Jack,  when  Vincent  goes,  let  us  clear  out !  " 

"  I  say  yes,  with  all  my  heart,  but  how  can  it  be  done  ? 
We  are  more  than  forty  miles  from  the  nearest  Union  lines. 
Whole  armies  are  between  us.  Any  white  man  found  on 
the  highway  is  questioned,  and  if  he  can't  give  a  clear  ac- 
count of  himself  is  sent  to  the  provost  prison.  You  remem- 
ber the  other  day,  when  we  left  the  rest  to  go  through  the 
swamp-road  near  Williamsburg.  we  were  hailed  by  a  patrol, 
and  if  Vincent  hadn't  been  within  reach  we  would  have 
been  sent  to  the  provost  prison.  Even  the  negroes  act  as 
guards." 

"  Don't  be  too  sure  of  that.     I've  been  talking  to  some  of 


A   MASQUE   IN   ARCADY.  161 

them.  They  are  'fraid  as  sin  of  the  overseers,  but  you  notice 
they  shut  up  all  the  negroes  in  their  own  quarters  at  night, 
don't  you?  If  they  were  all  right,  why  should  they  do  that? " 

"  Good  heavens !  you  haven't  been  trying  to  make  an  up- 
rising among  the  Kosedale  servants,  Dick?  Don't  you  know 
that  no  end  of  ours  could  justify  that?  These  people  have 
been  like  brothers— like  our  own  family  to  us.  It  would  be 
infamous — infamous  without  power  in  the  language  for 
comparison — if  we  should  requite  their  humanity  by  stir- 
ring up  servile  strife.  I  should  be  the  first  to  take  arms 
against  the  slaves  in  such  revolt,  and  give  my  life  rather 
than  be  instrumental  in  bringing  misery  upon  the  Atter- 
burys." 

"  Oh,  keep  your  powder  dry,  Jack !  I  never  dreamed  of 
stirring  'em  up.  What  I  mean  is,  that  they  are  all  restless 
and  uneasy.  They  have  an  idea  that  '  Massa  Linculm '  is 
coming  down  with  a  big  army  to  set  them  free.  Many  of 
them  want  to  fly  to  meet  this  army.  Many,  too,  would  al- 
most rather  die  than  leave  their  mistress.  None  of  them — 
but  the  very  bad  ones — could  be  induced  under  any  circum- 
stances to  lift  their  hands  against  the  family  or  its  property." 

"  I  should  hope  not — at  least  through  our  instrumentality. 
The  time  must  come  when  they  will  leave  the  family,  for 
the  one  call  only  and  in  one  way;  that  is,  by  cutting  out 
slavery  root  and  branch.  However,  that's  for  the  politicians 
to  manage ;  all  we  have  to  do  is  to  stand  by  the  colors  and 
fight." 

lt  I  don't  see  much  chance  of  standing  by  the  colors  here," 
Dick  retorted,  wrathf ully.  "  If  you'll  give  me  the  word,  I'll 
arrange  a  plan,  and,  as  soon  as  Vincent  goes — we'll  be  off." 

"  I'm  not  your  master,  you  young  hornet ;  I  can't  see 
what  you're  doing  all  the  time.  All  I  can  do  is  to  approve 
or  reject  such  doings  of  yours  as  you  bring  me  to  decide  on." 

Dick's  eyes  sparkled.  "  All  right,  I'll  keep  you  posted, 
never  fear." 

They  were  a  very  jovial  group  that  prattled  about  the 
long  Rosedale  dining-table  daily  now,  since  every  one  was 
able  to  come  down.  The  house  was  furnished  in  the  easy 


1G2  THE   IRON   GAME. 

unpretentiousness  that  prevailed  in  the  South  in  other  days. 
Cool  matting  covered  all  the  floors,  the  hallways,  and  bed- 
chambers. The  dining-room  opened  into  a  drawing-room, 
where  Kate  and  Olympia  took  turns  at  the  big  piano.  The 
day  was  divided,  English  fashion,  into  breakfast,  luncheon, 
dinner,  and  supper,  the  latter  as  late  as  nine  o'clock  in  the 
night.  Jack  being  unprovided  with  regimentals,  Vincent 
wore  civilian  garb,  to  spare  the  "  prisoner  "  (as  Jack  jocosely 
called  himself)  mortification.  Gray  was  the  "  only  wear  "  ob- 
tainable in  Richmond,  Mrs.  Atterbury  enjoying  with  gentle 
malice  the  rueful  perplexities  of  her  prisoner  guests,  Jack, 
Wesley,  and  Richard,  as  they  surrounded  the  board  in  this 
rebel  attire. 

' '  I  shall  feel  as  uncertain  of  myself  when  I  get  back  to 
blue,  as  I  do  in  chess,  after  I  have  played  a  long  while  with 
the  black,  changing  to  white.  I  manoeuvre  for  some  time 
for  the  discarded  color,"  Jack  said,  one  evening. 

"  Oh,  you'll  hardly  forget  in  this  case,"  Rosa  said,  saucily; 
"  it  is  for  the  blacks  you  are  manoeuvring  constantly." 

Jack  looked  up,  startled,  and  glanced  swiftly  at  Dick. 
Had  that  headstrong  young  marplot  been  detected  in  trea: 
son  with  the  colored  people  ?  No.  Dick  met  his  glance 
clear-eyed,  unconstrained.  The  shot  must  have  been  a  ran- 
dom one. 

"  I  think  you  do  us  injustice,  Miss  Rosa,"  Wesley  said. 
"  I,  for  one,  am  not  interested  in  the  blacks.  All  I  want  is 
the  Union ;  after  that  I  don't  care  a  rush ! " 

"I  protest  against  politics,"  Mrs.  Atterbury  intervened, 
gently.  "  When  I  was  a  girl  the  young  people  found  much 
more  interesting  subjects  than  politics." 

Rosa:  "  Crops,  mamma  ? " 

Vincent :  "  A  mistress's  eyebrow  ? " 

Dick :  "  Some  other  fellow's  sister  ? " 

Olympia:  "  Some  other  girl's  brother  ? " 

Mrs.  Sprague :  u  Giddy  girls  ? " 

Merry:  "Bad  boys?" 

"Well,  something  about  all  of  these,"  Mrs.  Atterbury 
resumed,  laughing.  "  I  don't  think  young  people  in  these 


A   MASQUE   IN   ARCADY.  163 

times  are  as  attached  to  each  other  as  we  used  to  be  in  our 
day — do  you,  Mrs.  Sprague  ? " 

"  I  don't  know  how  it  is  with  you  in  the  South ;  but  we 
no  longer  have  young  people  in  the  North.  Our  children 
bring  us  up  now — we  do  not  bring  them  up." 

"That  accounts  for  the  higher  average  of  intelligence 
among  parents  noted  in  the  last  census,"  Olympia  interrupts 
her  mother  to  say. 

"  There,  do  you  see  ? "  Mrs.  Sprague  continues,  with  a 
smile,  and  in  a  tone  that  has  none  of  the  asperity  the  words 
might  imply.  "  No  reverence,  no  waiting  for  the  elders,  as 
we  were  taught." 

"  It  depends  a  good  deal,  does  it  not,  whether  the  elders 
are  lovers  ? "  Vincent  asked,  innocently. 

"  Oh,  don't  look  at  me,  Mrs.  Sprague,  for  support  or  sym- 
pathy. Vincent  is  your  handiwork ;  he  was  formed  in  the 
North.  He  is  one  of  your  new  school  of  youth;  he  is 
Southern  only  in  loyalty  to  his  State.  For  a  time  I  had 
painful  apprehensions  that  that,  too,  had  been  educated 
away." 

"  It  was  his  reason  that  kept  him  faithful  there,"  Rosa 
ventured,  and  catches  Vincent  dropping  his  eyes  in  confusion 
from  the  demure  glances  of  Olympia. 

"Oh,  no;  pride.  A  Virginian  is  like  a  Roman,  he  is 
prouder  to  be  a  citizen  in  the  Dominion  than  a  king  in  an- 
other country,"  Mrs.  Atterbury  says,  with  stately  decision. 
"  No  matter  where  his  heart  may  be,"  and  she  glanced  casu- 
ally at  Olympia,  "his  duty  is  to  his  State." 

"  Politics,  mamma,  politics ;  remember  your  young  days. 
Talk  of  kings,  courts,  romance,  madrigals — but  leave  out 
politics,"  Rosa  cried,  remonstratingly. 

"  Let's  turn  to  political  economy.  How  do  you  propose 
disposing  of  your  tobacco  and  cotton  this  year  ? "  Jack  asked, 
gravely. 

l'  We  are  under  contract  to  deliver  ten  thousand  bales  at 
Wilmington  to  our  agent,"  Vincent  replied.  "As  for  to- 
bacco, we  expect  to  sell  all  we  can  raise  to  the  Yankee  gen- 
erals. We  have  already  begun  negotiations  with  some  of 


]31  THE   IRON   GAME. 

your  commanders  who  are  too  good  Yankees  to  miss  the 
main  chance." 

"  You're  not  in  earnest  ? "  Jack  cried,  aghast. 

"  As  earnest  as  a  maid  with  her  first  love." 

*'  But  who — who — is  the  miscreant  that  degrades  his 
cause  by  such  traffic  ? " 

"  Oh,  if  you  wait  until  you  learn  from  me,  you'll  never 
bo  a  dangerous  accuser.  I  learn  in  letters  from  friends  in 
the  West  that  all  the  cotton  crop  has  been  contracted  for  by 
men  either  in  the  Northern  army  or  high  in  the  confidence 
of  the  Administration.  You  see,  Jack,  we  are  not  the  Arca- 
dian simpletons  you  think  us.  This  war  is  to  be  paid  for 
out  of  Northern  pockets,  any  way  you  look  at  it.  We've  got 
cotton  and  tobacco,  you  must  have  both ;  you've  got  money, 
we  must  have  that.  What  we  don't  sell  to  you  we'll  send  to 
England." 

All  at  the  table  had  listened  absorbedly  to  this  strange 
revelation,  and  Jack  rose  from  the  table  shocked  and  dis- 
couraged. 

Olympia  seated  herself  at  the  piano,  and,  slipping  out, 
as  he  supposed,  unseen,  Jack  strolled  off  into  the  fragrant 
alleys  of  oleander  and  laurel.  Dick,  however,  was  at  his 
heels.  The  two  continued  on  in  silence,  Dick  trolling  along, 
switching  the  bugs  from  the  pink  blossoms  that  filled  the 
air  with  an  enervating  odor. 

"I  say.  Jack,  I've  found  out  something." 

"  What  have  you  found  out,  you  young  conspirator  ?  " 

"  Wesley  Boone's  trying  to  get  the  negroes  to  help  him 
off." 

"The  devil  he  is!" 

"  Yes.  Last  night  I  was  down  in  the  rose-fields.  Young 
Clem,  Aunt  Penelope's  boy,  was  sitting  under  a  bush  talking 
with  a  crony.  I  heard  him  say,  '  De  cap'n'll  take  you,  too, 
ef  you  doan  say  noffin'.  He  guv  Pompey  ten  gold  dollars.' 

" '  De  Lor' !    Will  he  take  ev'ybody  'long,  too,  Clem  ? ' 

" '  Good  Lor',  no !  He's  goin'  to  get  his  army,  and  den 
he'll  come  an'  fetch  all  de  niggahs.' 

"  '  De  Lor' ! ' 


A   MASQUE   IN   ARCADY.  165 

"  Trying  to  get  closer,  I  made  a  rustling  of  the  bushes, 
and  the  young  imps  shot  through  them  like  weasles  before  I 
could  lay  hands  on  them.  Now,  what  do  you  think  of  that  ? " 

"  If  it  is  only  to  escape,  all  right ;  but  if  it  is  an  attempt 
to  stir  up  insurrection,  I  will  stop  Wesley  myself,  rather  than 
let  him  carry  it  out ! " 

"  Wouldn't  it  be  the  best  thing  to  warn  Vincent  ?  It 
would  be  a  dreadful  thing  to  let  him  go  and  leave  his  poor 
mother  and  sister  here  unprotected." 

''  Let  me  think  it  over.  I  will  hit  on  some  plan  to  keep 
Wesley  from  making  an  ingrate  of  himself  without  bring- 
ing danger  on  our  benefactors." 

Kate  was  dawdling  on  the  lawn  as  the  two  returned  to 
the  house.  Jack  challenged  her  to  a  jaunt. 

"  Where  shall  it  be  ?  "  she  asked,  readily,  moving  toward 
him.  "  The  garden  of  the  gods  ?  " 

"  The  garden  of  the  goddesses,  you  mean,  if  it  is  the  rose- 
field." 

"  That's  true ;  a  god's  garden  would  be  filled  with  thorns 
and  warlike  blossoms." 

"  I  don't  know ;  a  rose-garden  grew  the  wars  of  the  houses 
of  York  and  Lancaster." 

"  Do  you  remember  the  scene  in  Shakespeare  where  Bol- 
ingbroke  and  Gaunt  pluck  the  roses  ? " 

"  Quite  well.  There  is  always  something  pathetic  to  me 
in  the  fables  historians  invent  to  excuse  or  palliate,  or,  per- 
haps it  would  be  juster  to  say,  make  tolerable,  the  stained 
pages  of  the  past.  It  is  brought  doubly  nearer  and  distinct 
by  this  miserable  war,  and  the  strange  fate  that  has  fallen 
upon  us — to  be  the  guests  of  a  family  whose  hopes  are  fixed 
upon  what  would  make  us  miserable  if  it  ever  happened." 

"  It  never  will.  That's  the  reason  I  listen  with  pity  to 
the  childish  vauntings  of  these  kind  people.  They  have, 
you  see,  no  conception  of  the  Northern  people — 110  idea  of 
the  deep-seated  purpose  that  moves  the  States  as  one  man  to 
stifle  this  monstrous  attempt." 

They  walked  on  in  silence  a  few  paces,  and  Kate  con- 
tinued : 


166  TUB  IRON   GAME. 

"I  don't  know  how  you  feel,  Mr.  Sprague,  but  I  am 
wretched  here.  I  feel  like  a  traitor,  receiving  such  kind- 
ness, treated  with  such  guileless  confidence,  and  yet  my 
heart  is  filled  with  everything  they  abhor.  It  is  not  so  hard 
for  you,  because  you  and  Vincent  have  been  close  friends. 
He  has  made  your  house  his  home,  but  I  certainly  feel  that 
Wesley  and  I  should  go  elsewhere,  now  that  he  is  able  to  be 
about." 

"  Does  Wesley  feel  this— this  embarrassment  ? " 

"  Passionately.  He  said,  last  night,  he  felt  like  a  sneak. 
He  would  fly  in  an  instant,  if  he  could  see  any  possible  way 
to  our  lines." 

"  Pray,  Miss  Boone,  tell  him  to  be  very  circumspect.  I 
know  the  Southern  nature.  When  they  give  you  their 
heart  they  give  entirely.  But  the  least  sign  of — of — distrust 
will  turn  them  into  something  worse  than  indifference.  We 
may  nee  our  way  out  soon.  .Caution  Wesley  against  any  act 
— any  act" — he  emphasized  the  words — "  that  may  lead  these 
kind  people  to  think  that  he  doesn't  trust  them,  or  that  he 
would  take  advantage  of  servile  insurrection  to  gain  his  lib- 
erty. Of  course,  they  know  that  we  are  all  restive  here; 
that  we  shall  be  even  more  impatient  when  Vincent  goes — 
but  they  could  not  understand  any  surreptitious  movement 
on  our  part,  to  enable  -us  to  get  away." 

He  hoped  that,  if  she  were  in  Wesley's  confidence,  she 
would  understand  his  meaning.  But  she  gave  no  sign.  She 
assented  with  an  affirmative  movement  of  the  head,  and  they 
walked  through  the  fragrant  paths,  plucking  a  rose  now  and 
then  that  seemed  more  tempting  than  its  fellows.  At  the 
end  of  the  field  of  roses  a  Cherokee  hedge  grew  so  thick  and 
high  that  it  formed  a  screen  and  rampart  between  the  house 
land  and  a  dense  grove  of  pines  which  was  itself  bor- 
dered by  a  stream  that  here  and  there  spread  out  into  tiny 
lakelets.  On  the  larger  of  these  there  were  rude  "  dug-outs," 
made  by  the  darkies  to  cut  off  the  long  walk  from  their 
quarters  to  the  tobacco  and  corn  fields. 

"Was  there  ever  an  Eden  more  perfect  than  this  delicious 
place  ? "  Kate  cried,  as  the  flaming  sun  sent  banners  of  gold, 


A   MASQUE   IN  ARCADY.  167 

mingled  in  a  rainbow  baldric  with  the  blooming  parterres  of 


"  I  don't  know  much  about  Eden,  and  the  little  I  do  know 
doesn't  give  me  a  sympathetic  reminiscence  of  the  place; 
but  I  agree  with  you  that  Rosedale  is  about  as  near  a  para- 
dise as  one  can  come  to  on  this  earth,"  Jack  qualifledly  re- 
plied. 

"  And  yet  we  want  to  fly  from  it  ? " 

"  Ah,  yes ;  because  the  tree  of  our  life,  the  volume  of  our 
knowledge,  or,  in  plain  prose,  our  hearts,  are  not  here,  and 
scenic  beauty  is  a  poor  substitute  for  that.  Duty,  I  am  con- 
vinced, is  the  key  of  the  best  life.  There  are  hearts  here, 
noble  ones — duties  here,  inspiring  ones.  But  they  do  not 
satisfy  us ;  they  are  become  a  torment  to  me.  I  feel  like  a 
soldier  brought  from  duty;  a  priest  fallen  into  the  ways  of 
the  flesh." 

"Your  rhapsodies  are  like  most  fine-sounding  things, 
more  to  the  hope  than  the  heart,"  Kate  murmured,  gazing 
dreamily  into  the  purple  mass  of  color  hovering  changefully 
over  the  opaque  water  at  their  feet.  "  You  mean  they  do  not 
reach  your  heart ;  that  your  soul  is  far  away  as  to  what  is 
here.  I  think  Vincent  and  Rosa  would  not  agree  that  life 
has  any  more  or  narrower  limitations  here  than  we  recog- 
nize at  Acredale." 

"  Let  us  go  on  the  water."  He  pulled  the  rude  shallop  to 
her  feet  and  they  got  in  and  went  on,  Jack  not  heeding  her 
gibe.  "These  brackish,  threatening  deeps  remind  me  of  all 
sorts  of  weird  and  uncanny  things ;  Stygian  pools — Lethe — 
what  not  mystic  and  terrifying.  See,  the  tiny  waves  that 
curl  before  our  boat  are  like  thin  ink;  a  thousand  roots  and 
herbs  and  who  knows  what  mysterious  vegetable  mixture 
colors  these  dark  deeps  ?  I  could  fancy  myself  on  an  un- 
canny pilgrimage,  seeking  some  demon  delight." 

There  was  but  one  oar  in  the  boat,  which  the  negroes  used 
as  a  scull.  Jack  made  a  poor  fist  with  this,  but  there  was  no 
need  of  rowing.  Kate,  catching  a  projecting  limb  from  the 
thick  bushes  on  the  margin,  sent  the  little,  wabbling  craft  on- 
ward in  noisless,  spasmodic  plunges.  Deep  fringes  of  wild 


1G8  THE   IRON   GAME. 

columbine  fell  in  fluffy  sprays  from  the  higher  hanks  as 
the  boat  drifted  along  the  other  side.  The  thickets  were 
musical  with  the  chattering  cat-birds  and  whip-poor-wills, 
mingled  with  a  scoi-e  of  woodland  melodists  that  Jack's  limit- 
ed woodcraft  did  not  enable  him  to  recognize. 

"  Who  would  think  that  we  are  within  a  half-mile  of  a 
completely  appointed  country  house  ?  We  are  as  isolated 
here  from  all  vestiges  of  civilization  as  we  should  be  in  a 
Florida  everglade,"  Kate  said,  as  the  little  craft  swam  along 
in  an  eddy. 

"  It  seems  to  me  typical  of  the  people — this  curiously  wild 
transition  from  blooming,  well-kept  gardens,  to  such  still 
and  solemn  nature.  The  place  might  be  called  primeval: 
look  at  those  gnarled  roots,  like  prodigious  serpents ;  see  the 
shining  bark  of  the  larch — I  think  it  is  larch — I  should  call 
it '  slippery '  elm  if  it  were  at  Acredale ;  but  see  the  fantastic 
effects  of  the  little  lances  of  sunlight  breaking  through! 
Isn't  it  the  realization  of  all  you  ever  read  in  '  Uncle  Tom ' 
or  '  Dred '  ? " 

Kate  glanced  into  the  weird  deeps  of  foliage,  where  a 
bird,  fluttering  011  the  wing,  aroused  strange  echoes.  "  Ugh ! " 
she  said,  in  a  half  whisper,  "  I  can  imagine  it  the  meeting- 
place  of  '  Tarn  o'  Shanter's '  eldritches  seeing  this — but,  all 
the  same,  do  you  know  it  is  fascinating  beyond  words  to  me  ? 
Should  you  mind  going  in  a  little  farther — I  should  like  the 
sensation  of  awe  the  place  suggests,  since  there  can  be  no 
danger — while  you  are  here  ? " 

He  gave  her  a  quick  glance,  but  her  eyes  were  fastened  on 
the  dark  recesses  beyond. 

"  I  should  be  delighted,  but  I  won't  insure  your  gown, 
nor — nor  half  promise  that  we  shall  come  out  alive." 

"  Oh,  as  to  that,  I'll  take  the  risk." 

"  I  don't  know  the  habits  of  Southern  snakes ;  but  if  they 
are  as  well-bred  as  ours,  they  retire  from  the  ken  of  wicked 
men  at  sundown,  so  we  needn't  fear  them,  as  the  sun  is  too 
far  down  for  the  snake  of  tradition  to  see  or  molest  us." 

They  stepped  out  of  the  boat  at  a  green,  sedgy  point,  ex- 
tending from  a  labyrinth  of  flowering  vines  and  creepers. 


A   MASQUE   IN   ARCADY.  .   169 

Once  inside  the  delicious  odorous  screen,  they  found  them- 
selves in  an  archipelago  of  green  islets,  connected  by  monster 
roots  or  moss-covered  trunks  that  seemed  laid  by  elfin  hands 
for  the  penetration  of  this  leafy  jungle. 

"  Yes ;  I  was  going  to  say,"  Jack  continued,  "  this  swift 
transposition  from  the  cultivation  of  civilization  to  the  handi- 
work of  Nature  is  whimsically  illustrative  of  the  people.  Did 
you  ever  see  or  hear  or  read  of  such  open-handed,  honest- 
hearted  hospitality  as  theirs;  such  refinement  of  manners; 
such  sincerity  in  speech  and  act  ?  Contrast  this  with  their 
fairly  pagan  creed  as  to  the  slaves;  their  intolerance  of  the 
Northern  people;  their  clannish  reverence  for  family." 

"  But  isn't  the  inequality  of  the  Southern  character  due  to 
their  strange  lack  of  education  ?  Few  of  them  are  cultivated 
as  we  understand  education.  Do  you  notice  that  among  the 
people  we  met  at  Williamsburg — officers  as  well  as  civilians 
— none  of  them  were  equal  to  even  a  very  limited  range  of 
subjects  ?  All  who  are  educated  have  been  in  the  North. 
Ah — good  Heavens !  " 

Kate's  exclamation  was  due  to  a  sudden  sinking  in  the 
mossy  causeway  until  she  was  almost  buried  in  the  tall  ferns. 
Jack  helped  her  out,  shivered  a  moment,  doubtingly,  as  he 
exclaimed : 

'•  The  sun  is  nearly  down  now,  though  the  air  is  trans- 
parent, or  would  be  if  we  were  in  the  free  play  of  daylight. 
I  think  it  would  be  better  to  go  back."  But  they  made  no 
haste.  Such  trophies  of  ferns  and  lace-like  mosses  were  not 
to  be  plucked  in  every  walk,  and  they  dawdled  on  and  on 
skirmishing,  with  delighted  hardihood,  against  the  pitfalls  of 
bog  that  covered  morass  and  pitch-black  mud.  When  the 
impulse  finally  came  to  hasten  back,  they  were  somewhat 
cbagrined  to  discover  that  they  had  lost  their  own  trail. 
The  point  where  they  had  quit  the  stream  could  not  be 
found.  Clambering  plants,  burdened  with  blossoms,  fra- 
grant as  honeysuckle,  grew  all  along  the  bank,  and  the  bush 
that  had  attracted  them  was  no  longer  a  landmark. 

"  Well,"  Jack  said,  confidently,  "  the  sun  disappeared 
over  tbere ;  that  is  southwest.  The  house  is  in  that  direction 


170  TUB   IRON   GAME. 

— northeast.  Now,  if  you  will  keep  that  big  sycamore  in 
your  eye  and  follow  me,  we  shall  be  Hearing  the  house,  as 
I  calculate." 

They  pushed  on  in  that  direction,  but  had  only  gone  a 
few  yards  when  the  ground  became  a  perfect  quagmire  of 
black  loam,  that  looked  like  coal  ground  to  powder,  and  was 
thin  as  mush. 

"This  is  a  brilliant  stroke  on  my  part,  I  must  say," 
Jack  cried,  facing  Kate  ruefully.  "  We  must  go  back  and 
examine  the  ground,  as  Indians  do,  and  find  our  entrance 
trail  in  that  way.  I  will  watch  the  ground  and  you  keep  an 
eye  on  the  shrubs.  Wherever  you  see  havoc  among  them 
you  may  be  sure  my  manly  foot  has  fallen  there." 

Suddenly  they  were  conscious  of  an  indescribable  change 
in  the  place.  Neither  knew  what  it  was.  It  had  corne  on  in 
the  excitement  of  their  march  into  the  morass— or  it  had 
come  the  instant  they  both  became  conscious  of  it.  What 
was  it  ?  Kate  turned  and  looked  into  Jack's  blank  face  ! 

"  I'm  blessed  if  I  know  what  it  is,  but  it  seems  as  if  some- 
thing had  suddenly  gone  out  of  the  order  of  things  !  What 
is  it  ?  Do  you  feel  it ;  do  you  notice  it  ?  " 

"  Feel  it— see  it — why,  it  is  as  palpable,  or,  rather  to  speak 
accurately,  it  is  as  clearly  absent  as  the  color  from  an  oil- 
painting,  leaving  mere  black  and  white  outlines." 

"  How  besotted  I  am !  "  Jack  cried ;  "  why,  I  know.  The 
sun  has  wholly  gone,  and  the  birds  and  living  things  have 
ceased  to  sing  and  move." 

"  That's  it ;  could  you  believe  that  it  would  make  such  a 
change  ?  Why,  I  thought,  when  we  came  in,  the  place  was 
a  temple  of  silence,  but  it  was  a  mad  world  compared  to 
this." 

"  Yes,  and  we  must  hurry  and  get  out  while  we  have 
daylight  to  help  us.  I  take  it  you  wouldn't  care  to  swim  the 
lagoon.  Let  us  call  it  lagoon,  for  this  place  makes  the  name 
appropriate." 

"  Call  it  whatever  you  like,  but  don't  ask  me  to  swim  it," 
Kate  cried,  pushing  on. 

"  Ah  !  I  have  our  trail,"  Jack  cries  in  triumph.     "  By 


A   MASQUE   IN   ARCADY.  ]71 

George,  it  is  wide  enough !  "  he  added,  bending  over  where 
the  thick  grasses  were  crushed  and  broken.  "  See  the  ad- 
vantage of  large  feet.  Now,  if  you  had  been  alone,  'twould 
have  been  as  hard  as  to  trace  a  bird's  track." 

"  Is  that  an  implication  that  I  have  Chinese  feet  ? " 
"  No,  too  literal  young  woman.     It  was  meant  to  show 
you  that  I  am  very  much  relieved,  for,  'pon  my  soul,  I  was 
afraid  we  were  in  a  very  disagreeable  scrape." 
"  And  you  are  now  quite  sure  we  are  not  ? " 
"  Quite  sure.     Don't  you  want  to  take  my  arm  ? " 
"  Oh,  no,  thank  you.     I'm  not  at  all  tired.     I'm  used  to 
longer  walks  than  this." 

"  Longer,  possibly,  but  not  over  such  trying  ground." 
"  Oh,  yes.     I've  gone  with  Wesley  and  his  friends  to  the 
lakes  in  the  North  Woods." 

"  Ah  !  I've  never  been  there.  Are  they  as  bad  travel  as 
this  ? " 

"  Infinitely  worse —    Why,  what  was  that  ? " 
"  It  sounded  very  like  the  report  of  a  pistol." 
Both  stopped,  Kate  coming  quite  close  to  the  young  man, 
who  was  bent  over  with  his  hand  to  his  ear,  trumpet-fashion. 
u  Do  you—"    He  made  a  warning  gesture  with  his  hand, 
and  motioned  her  to  stoop  among  the  ferns.     A  halloo  was 
heard  in  the  distance  ;  then  a  response  just  ahead  of  where 
the  two  crouched  in  the  breast-high  ferns,  through  which 
the  path  made  by  their  recent  footsteps  led.     When  the 
echoing  halloo  died  away,  a  bird  in  the  distance  seemed  to 
catch  up  the  refrain  and  dwell  upon  the  note  with  an  exqui- 
site, painful  melody. 

"  Why.  it's  the  throat  interlude  in  the  Magic  Flute  !  How 
lovely  it  is  !  "  Kate  whispered.  "  If  you  were  my  knight,  I 
should  put  on  you  the  task  of  caging  that  lovely  sound  for 
me." 

The  distant  bird-note  ceased,  and  then  suddenly,  from 
the  bushes  just  ahead  of  them,  it  was  caught  up  and  an- 
swered, note  for  note,  in  a  wild  pibroch  strain,  harsher  but 
inexpressibly  moving.  Jack  turned  to  Kate,  his  face  quite 
pale,  and  whispered : 


1Y2  THE   IRON   GAME. 

k'  It  is  not  a  bird.  They  are  negroes.  I  have  read  of 
these  sounds.  They  are  marauding  slaves,  and  we  must  not 
let  them  see  us.  We  must  get  to  those  thick  clumps  of 
bushes.  Do  you  think  you  can  remain  bent  until  we  reach 
them  ?  If  not,  we  will  rest  every  few  paces." 

"  Go  on.     I  can  try." 

The  pibroch  strains  still  continued,  rising  into  a  mourn- 
ful wail,  then  sinking  into  the  soft  cries  of  the  whip-poor-will. 
In  a  few  minutes  the  perplexed  fugitives  were  deep  in  a  clump 
of  wild  hawberries,  invisible  to  any  one  who  should  pass. 
The  strains  had  ceased  as  suddenly  as  they  began.  Then  a 
faint  hallo-o-o  sounded,  being  answered  in  the  bushes,  as  it 
seemed,  just  in  front  of  where  Jack  and  his  companion 
stood  ;  voices  soon  became  audible  farther  along,  ten  or 
more  paces.  Motioning  to  Kate,  Jack  crept  along  noiseless- 
ly, and  fancied  he  could  distinguish  forms  through  the  thick 
screen  of  bushes.  A  voice,  not  a  negro's,  said  : 

"  I  went  to  the  cove  for  you — what  was  the  matter  ? " 

"  I  had  the  devil's  work  to  get  through  the  posts.  For 
some  reason  or  other  they're  getting  mighty  sharp.  I  must 
be  back  before  twelve  ;  what's  been  done  ?" 

"  Well,  the  mokes  consent  to  go,  but  they  won't  touch 
the  ranch.  You'll  have  to  bring  up  a  few  hands;  the  fewer 
the  better.  If  them  damned  feather-bed  sojers  wasn't  there, 
we  could  do  the  job  ourselves." 

"  When  does  the  boss  get  out  ? " 

"  Next  week.  I  don't  know  what  day.  They'd  pay  high 
for  him  both  ways." 

"No,  we  can't  nibble  there.  The  cap'n'll  pay  well. 
That's  square.  We  can't  afford  to  try  the  other  now,  at  any 
rate.  Is  the  skiff  here  ? " 

"Yes;  well,  get  in." 

There  was  a  plash  and  the  receding  sound  of  voices. 
Jack  darted  through  the  screen  of  branches,  but  he  could  not 
distinguish  the  figures,  for  it  was  growing  every  instant 
dimmer  twilight.  He  turned  to  Kate.  She  was  at  his  side. 

"  Who  were  they — what  were  they  planning  ?  Were 
they  soldiers  ? "  she  asked. 


A   MASQUE   IN   ARCADY.  173 

"  Never  mind  them  now.  We  must  find  a  way  out  of 
this.  Our  boat  caii't  be  far  off.  We  must  follow  this  line 
of  bushes  until  we  come  to  the  spot  we  left.  I  know  I  can 
recognize  it,  for  there  was  an  enormous  tree  fallen  a  few 
steps  from  the  sedge  bank  we  landed  on." 

It  was  a  very  toilsome  journey  now,  obliged  as  they  were 
to  hug  the  obstinate  growth  of  haws,  wild  alder,  and  dog 
roses,  which  tore  flesh  and  garments  in  the  hurried  flight. 
They  came  to  the  dead  tree  finally,  and  Jack  almost  shouted 
in  grateful  relief : 

"  You  were  a  true  prophet,  Miss  Boone.  You  gave  utter- 
ance to  some  Druid-like  remarks  as  we  crossed  the  Stygian 
pool.  The  worst  your  fancy  painted  couldn't  equal  what 
we've  seen  and  heard.  ' 

"  I  have  seen  nothing  dreadful,  and  I  can't  say  that  I  un- 
derstand very  much  of  what  we  heard." 

"  There  is  some  '  caper  '  going  on  to  give  these  cut-throats 
a  chance  to  get  booty  or  something  of  the  sort." 

"  They  are  probably  rebel  soldiers  planning  to  sack  the 
commissary." 

They  were  in  the  boat  now,  and  Jack  was  sending  it  for- 
ward by  lusty  lunges  against  every  protruding  object  he 
could  get  a  stroke  at;  when  these  failed  he  managed  to  scull 
after  a  fashion.  They  found  the  household  in  consternation 
when  they  got  back,  but  Jack  gave  a  picturesque  narrative  of 
their  escapade,  omitting  the  encounter  with  the  negroes  which 
he  had  charged  Kate  to  say  nothing  about,  as  it  would  only 
alarm  Mrs.  Atterbury.  The  garments  of  the  explorers  told 
the  tale  of  their  mishaps,  and  when  they  had  clothed  them- 
selves anew  supper  was  announced.  The  feast  was  of  the 
lightest  sort  :  sherbet  or  tea  for  those  who  liked  it ;  fruit  and 
crackers,  honey  or  marmalade— a  triumph  in  the  cultivation 
of  dyspepsia,  Jack  said  when  he  first  began  the  eating.  But 
it  was  observed  that  the  disease  had  no  teri*ors  for  him,  for 
he  sat  at  the  table  as  long  as  he  could  get  any  one  to  remain 
with  him,  and  did  his  share  in  testing  all  the 'dishes.  He 
outsat  everybody  that  night  except  Dick,  who  never  got 
tired  of  any  place  that  brought  him  near  his  idol. 


174:  THE   IRON   GAME. 

"  I'm  going  up-stairs  in  a  moment,  Towhead.  Come  up 
after  me." 

Dick  nodded,  a  gleam  of  delightful  expectation  in  his 
eyes.  He  was  just  in  the  ardent  period  when  boys  love  to 
make  mysteries  of  very  ordinary  things,  and  Jack's  sotto 
voce  command  was  like  the  hero's  voice  in  the  play,  "  Meet 
me  by  the  ruined  well  when  midnight  strikes. "  He  followed 
Jack  up  the  wide  staircase  and  into  his  own  room,  for  greater 
security,  as  no  one  would  think  of  looking  for  them  there. 

"  Now,  tell  me  all  you  have  found  out,"  Jack  commanded 
as  he  shut  the  door.  "  Have  you  been  among  the  darkys  ? " 

"  I've  found  out  this  much.  The  old  negroes  are  opposed 
to  going  away  or  in  any  shape  annoying  their  masters.  The 
young  bucks  and  the  women  are  very  eager  to  fly.  It  seems 
that  some  one  has  spread  the  story  among  them  that  Lincoln 
has  sent  Butler  to  Fort  Monroe  to  receive  all  the  negroes  on 
the  Peninsula.  They  have  been  assured  that  they  are  to 
have  '  their  freedom,  one  hundred  acres  of  land,  and  an  ox- 
team.'  Where  the  report  comes  from,  I  can't  find  out  ;  but 
there  is  some  communication  between  here  and  the  Union 
lines,  I'm  positive." 

"  Has  Wesley  been  with  the  negroes  again  ? " 

"  No.     I  have  kept  an  eye  on  him  all  day." 

"  Where  does  he  go  at  night  ? " 

"  The  doctor  has  forbidden  him  to  be  in  the  night  air  for 
the  present." 

"  Well,  you  keep  an  eye  on  Wesley,"  and  then  Jack  nar- 
rated the  strange  scene  in  the  swamp,  the  mysterious  calls, 
and  the  conversation. 

Dick  listened  in  awe,  mingled  with  rapture.  "  Oh,  why 
wasn't  I  there  ?  Just  my  blamed  luck  !  I  would  have  fol- 
lowed them,  and  then  we  should  have  known  what  they 
were  up  to.  Did  you  know  that  a  company  of  cavalry  had 
gone  into  camp  just  below  the  grove  ? " 

"  No — when  ?  " 

"  This  evening.     Vincent  is  down  there  now." 

"  Well,  you  may  be  sure  they  suspect  something.  I  won- 
der if  it  wouldn't  be  better  to  speak  to  Vincent  ? " 


A   MASQUE   IN    ARCADY.  175 

"  Of  course  not  !  What  have  we  to  tell  him  ?  Simply  my 
suspicions  and  Clem's  chatter.  The  little  moke  may  have 
bcsen  lying  ;  I  can't  see  that  any  of  them  do  much  else." 

"  The  worst  of  it  is,  these  Southerners  are  very  sensitive 
about  any  allusion  to  the  negroes.  They  would  pooh-pooh 
anything  we  might  say  that  was  not  backed  by  proof.  It's 
a  mighty  uncomfortable  fix  to  be  in,  Dick,  my  boy  ;  though, 
'pon  my  soul,  I  believe  you  enjoy  it !  " 

Dick  grinned  deprecating] y. 

"  I  think  you  do,  you  unfledged  Guy  Fawkes.  I  know 
nothing  would  give  you  greater  joy  than  to  put  on  a  mask, 
grasp  a  dagger  in  your  hand,  and  go  to  Wesley,  crying,  '  Vil- 
lain, your  secret  or  your  life  ! '  Dick,  you're  a  stage  hero  ; 
you're  a  thing  of  sawdust  and  tinsel.  Come  to  the  parlor 
and  hear  Kate  play  the  divine  songs  of  Mendelssohn  ;  per- 
haps, night-eyed  conspirator,  to  whirl  Polly  or  Miss  Rosa  in 
the  delirium  of  the  '  Blaue  DonauS  Come." 

But  there  was  neither  dance  nor  music  when  they  reached 
the  drawing-room.  Everybody  was  there ;  Vincent  had  just 
come,  and  the  first  words  Jack  and  Dick  heard  glued  them 
to  their  places. 

"Yes,  all  the  iiegroes  on  the  Lawless',  Skinner's,  and 
Lomas's  plantations  have  gone.  Butler  has  declared  them 
contrabands  of  war,  and  a  lot  of  Yankee  speculators  have 
been  sneaking  thi'ough  the  plantations,  filling  their  ignorant 
minds  with  promises  of  freedom,  a  farm,  and  a  share  of  their 
masters'  property.  Their  real  purpose  is  to  get  the  negroes 
and  bold  them  until  the  two  governments  come  to  terms,  and 
then  they  will  get  rewards  for  every  nigger  they  hold.  Oh, 
these  Yankees  can  see  ways  of  making  money  through  a 
stone-wall,"  and  Vincent  laughed  lightly,  as  though  the  in- 
cident in  nq  way  concerned  him.  "  Captain  Cram,  who  is  in 
camp  just  below  in  the  oak  clearing,  is  ordered  to  scour  the 
river-bank  to  the  enemy's  lines  near  Hampton,  so  we  need 
have  no  fear  of  these  enterprising  apostles  of  freedom  inter- 
fering with  our  niggers." 

"  I  don't  think  one  of  them  could  be  induced  to  leave  us 
if  offered  all  our  farms,"  Mrs.  Atterbury  said,  a  little  proudly. 
12 


176  THE   IROX   GAME. 

"  There  isn't  one  of  them  that  I  haven't  brought  through 
sickness  or  trouble  of  one  sort  or  another,  and  there  isn't 
one  that  wouldn't  take  my  command  before  the  gold  of  a 
stranger. " 

"  I  don't  know,  Mrs.  Atterbury,"  Mrs.  Sprague  ventured, 
mildly.  "  Gold  is  a  mighty  weight  in  an  argument.  I  have 
known  it  to  change  the  convictions  of  a  lifetime  in  a  mo- 
ment. I  have  known  it  to  make  a  man  renounce  his  father, 
dishonor  his  name,  belie  his  whole  life,  deny  his  family." 

"  When  a  fortune  beyond  reasonable  dreams  was  placed 
upon  the  head  of  Charles  Stuart,  for  whom  our  ancestors 
fought  and  beggared  themselves,  his  secret  was  in  the  keep- 
ing of  scores  of  peasants,  and  the  blood-money  lay  idle.  I 
could  cite  hundreds  of  similar  proofs,  that  gold  is  not  God 
everywhere.  I  mean  no  offense,  but  you  will  agree  with  ine 
that  you  Northern  people  are  given  up  to  the  getting  and 
worship  of  money.  It  is  not  so  with  us.  Perhaps  because 
we  have  it,  and  with  it  something  that  makes  it  secondary — 
birth.  I  have  no  fear  of  the  infidelity  of  any  of  my  people. 
I  would  as  soon  doubt  Rosa  or  Vincent  as  the  smallest  black 
on  my  estate." 

She  spoke  with  mild,  high-bred  dignity,  not  a  particle  of 
assertion  or  captious  intolerance,  but  as  a  pi-elate  might  as- 
sert the  majesty  of  the  word  on  the  altar,  neither  looking 
for  dissent  nor  dreaming  that  the  spirit  of  it  could  exist. 

"  I'm  glad  to  hear  your  mother  express  such  confidence, 
Vint,"  Jack  said  as  they  walked  out  on  the  veranda  to  take 
a  good-night  smoke;  "but  just  let  me  give  you  a  maxim 
of  my  own,  the  lock's  not  sure  unless  the  key  is  in  your 
pocket." 

"Sententious,  my  boy,  but  vague.  My  mother  is  per- 
fectly right.  Our  niggers  are  fidelity  itself.  But  since  we 
are  so  near  the  Butler  lines,  where  his  agents  can  sneak  up 
on  the  river  and  kidnap  the  new  sort  of  contraband,  I  think 
it  better  to  take  some  precaution.  Hereafter  General  Ma- 
gruder  will  have  a  picket  post  within  two  miles  of  us,  be- 
tween here  and  the  creek,  which  offers  a  convenient  point 
for  smuggling." 


TREASON  AND  STRATAGEMS.          177 

"I  am  heartily  relieved  to  hear  it,"  Jack  cried,  giving 
something  too  much  fervor  to  his  relief,  for  Vincent  turned 
and  looked  at  him  in  surprise,  but  it  was  too  dark  in  the 
shadow  of  the  clematis  to  see  his  face,  and  after  a  silence 
Vincent  said : 

"  Mamma  has  told  you  that  the  President  is  coming  to 
Williamsburg  to  review  Magruder's  troops  ? " 

"  No ;  she  hadn't  mentioned  it.     Is  he  ? " 

'•  Yes ;  he  will  be  there  Thursday  afternoon,  and  we  shall 
have  the  ball  the  same  evening.  He  will  be  here  with  Gen- 
eral Lee,  his  chief  of  staff,  and  remain  all  night;  so  that  you 
will  be  able  to  say  when  you  go  back  North — something  that 
few  Yankees  will  be  able  to  say  during  the  war — that  you 
have  broken  bread  with  the  first  President  of  the  Confed- 
eracy." 

u  I  will  strive  to  bear  m;y  honors  with  humility,"  Jack 
said. 

"  It  befits  the  conquered  to  be  humble." 

"  If  I  hadn't  come  in  time,  you  two  would  have  been  in  a 
squabble — own  it !  "  and  Rosa  drew  a  chair  between  them  as 
a  peacemaker. 


CHAPTER  XVH. 

TREASON  AND  STRATAGEMS. 

ROSEDALE  was,  indeed,  Eden  in  the  most  orthodox  sense' 
to  the  group  so  strangely  billeted  in  its  lovely  tranquillity. 
No  sooner  was  the  anguish  concerning  the  invalids  off  Kate's, 
Olympia's,  and  Rosa's  minds,  than  new  perplexities  beset 
them.  Rosa  was  barely  eighteen,  Kate  and  Olympia  older 
by  three  or  four  years,  but  the  younger  girl  was  in  many 
essential  things  quite  as  mature  as  her  Northern  comrades. 
But  Jack  could  not  comprehend  this,  and  quite  innocently 
did  and  said  things  to  arouse  the  young  girl's  dreams.  I 
think  I  have  said  that  Jack  was  a  very  comely  fellow  ?  He 


178  THE   IRON   GAME. 

was  big  and  brawny,  and  tireless  in  good-humor,  and  the 
attractive  little  gallantries  that  women  adore.  He  looked 
as  sentimentally  sincere,  uttering  a  paradox,  as  another  vow- 
ing eternal  fidelity.  He  gave  every  woman  the  impression 
that  his  mind  was  lost  wondering  how  he  should  exist  until 
she  gave  him  the  right  to  call  her  his  own.  Though,  as  a 
matter  of  fact,  it  is  the  man  who  is  the  woman's  own— when 
the  final  word  comes. 

Rosa  was  not  long  in  discovering  Vincent's  happy  tumult 
in  Olympia's  presence,  and  she  secretly  misunderstood  Jack 
the  more  that  he  was  so  lavish  and  open  in  his  adulations. 
If  he  rode,  he  exhausted  eulogy  in  describing  her  pose,  her 
daring,  her  skill ;  if  they  danced,  as  they  did  nearly  every 
night — until  poor  Merry's  fingers  ached  from  drumming  the 
unholy  strains  of  Faust,  Strausr,  and  what  not,  in  the  old- 
fashioned  waltzes— he  pan  ting]  y  declared  that  she  made  the 
music  seem  a  celestial  choir  by  her  lightness;  in  long  walks 
in  the  rose-fields  he  exhausted  a  not  very  laborious  store  of 
botanical  conceits,  to  make  her  cheeks  resemble  the  roses. 
This  assurance,  this  recklessness,  this  aplomb,  quite  bewil- 
dered the  girl,  who  posed  in  Richmond  for  a  passed  mistress 
.  of  flirting.  She  had,  unless  rumor  was  badly  at  fault,  jilted 
an  appalling  list  of  the  striplings  who  believed  that  beard- 
growing  and  love-making  were  conventionally  contempo- 
raneous events.  But  they  had  "mooned"  about  her  and 
made  themselves  absurd  in  vain,  while  this  unconscious 
Adonis  calmly  walked,  talked,  and  acted  as  if  she  could  know 
nothing  else  than  love  him,  and  one  day  she  started  in  deli- 
cious misery  to  find  that  she  did — that  is,  she  thought  she 
might  if — if  ?  But  there  her  dreams  became  nebulous— they 
were  rosy  in  outline,  however,  and  she  was  content  to  rest 
there. 

The  morning  after  the  coming  of  the  cavalry-troop,  Wes- 
ley was  discussing  the  never-ending  theme  of  how  he  was 
going  to  get  home — with  Kate  busy  arranging  the  ferns  she 
had  brought  from  the  swamp. 

"Really,  Wesley,  just  now  you  ought  to  be  content. 
There  is  no  likelihood  of  any  movement;  besides,  philoso- 


TREASON  AND  STRATAGEMS.          179 

phy  is  as  much  a  merit  in  a  soldier  as  valor — it  is  valor,  it  is 
endurance.  You  complain  of  your  unhappy  fate,  housed 
here  with  a  lot  of  women  and  idlers.  How  would  you  bear  up 
in  Libby  Prison  ?  There  are  as  good  men  as  you  there,  my 
dear;  shall  I  say  better  or  older  soldiers,  Brutus  ?  You  may 
take  your  choice,  and  '  count  on  a  sister's  blind  partiality  to 
justify  you  !'" 

"Oh,  don't  always  talk  nonsense,  Kate.  You're  worse 
than  Jack  Sprague.  He  doesn't  seem  to  have  a  serious 
thought  in  his  head  from  daylight  till  bedtime." 

"Perhaps  he  keeps  all  his  sober  thoughts  for  the  night, 
to  give  them  good  company." 

u  No,  but  do  say  what  I  ought  to  do." 

"You  ought  to  study  to  make  yourself  tolerable  to  your 
sister,  dear,  and  agreeable  to  the  other  fellows'  sisters.  I 
have  remarked  that  the  young  man  who  does  that,  keeps 
out  of  despondency  and  other  uncomfortable  conditions  that 
too  much  brooding  on  an  empty  head  brings  about." 

"  I'd  like  to  know  what  heart  I  can  have  to  make  myself 
agreeable  to  other  fellows'  sisters  when  you  are  always  lam- 
pooning me  ;  you  delight  in  making  me  think  I  am  no- 
body." 

"Don't  fear,  my  dear;  if  that  were  my  delight  I  should 
die  an  old  maid,  never  having  known  delight,  for  it  would 
need  more  force  than  I  can  muster  to  make  Wesley  Boone, 
captain  U.  S.  A.,  anything  else  than  he  is — his  father's  pride 
and  his  sister's  joy.  No,  dear,  my  delight  is  to  see  you  gay 
and  open  and  frank  and  manly,  self-dependent,  grateful  for 
the  consideration  shown  you,  and  recognizant  of  the  con- 
stant admonition  of  your  sagacious  sister. " 

"You  talk  exactly  like  the  woman  in  George  Sand's 
stupid  stories  ;  they  always  remind  me  of  men  in  petti- 
coats." 

"  That's  a  weak  and  strained  comparison ;  not,  however, 
unworthy  a  soldier.  We  always  compare,  in  speech,  to 
strengthen  assertion  or  adorn  it,  and  when  we  do  we  com- 
pare what  is  equivocal  or  vague,  with  what  is  well  known 
and  usual.  Now,  I  do  not  remember  -any  men  in  petticoats, 


180  THE   IRON   GAME. 

unless  you  mean  the  Orientals,  who  wear  a  sort  of  skirt,  and 
the  Scots,  who  used  to  wear  kilts — but  strictly  speaking — ' 

"  Do,  Kate,  for  Heaven's  sake,  be  serious  for  a  moment ! 
I  have  a  chance  to  escape,  no  matter  how,  but  I  can  make 
my  way  to  our  lines  without  running  any  great  risk.  Now, 
is  it  or  is  it  not  dishonorable  for  me  to  do  it  ? " 

•'  Seriously,  Wesley,  just  now  it  would  be,  while  Vincent 
is  here,  for  he  is  in  a  sense  pledged  for  you  to  his  superior. 
Further,  there  is  no  need  to  hurry.  You  are  barely  recov- 
ered. If  you  were  North  you  would  be  in  Acredale ;  if  you 
were,  there  is  no  immediate  want  of  your  presence  in  the 
army.  The  articles  we  see  in  the  Richmond  papers  every 
day,  copied  from  Northern  journals,  show  that  this  new  gen- 
eral, McClellan,  means  to  bring  a  trained,  drilled,  disciplined 
army  down  when  he  moves.  It  took  six  months  to  prepare 
McDowell's  useless  mass.  It  will  certainly  take  a  year  to 
put  the  million  men  now  arming  in  shape  to  fight.  I  may 
be  wrong,  but  at  the  earliest  there  can  be  no  movement  be- 
fore late  in  October.  By  that  time  we  shall  probably  have 
the  problem  solved  by  the  Government,  and  you  will  go 
North,  having  made  delightful  friends  of  all  this  charming 
family." 

Wesley  was  even  more  afraid  of  Kate's  strong  sense  of 
honor  than  of  her  biting  sarcasm,  and  he  ended  the  inter- 
view without  daring  to  tell  her  how  far  he  had  compromised 
himself  with  the  secret  agents  that  were  surrounding  the 
plantation.  Dick,  running  down-stairs  in  his  wake,  encount- 
ered Rosa,  with  her  garden  hat  covering  her  like  the  roof 
of  a  disrupted  pagoda.  She  arrested  his  stride  as  he  was 
darting  toward  the  door. 

"  Here — you — Richard,  just  come  and  be  of  some  use  to 
me.  I'm  housekeeper  to-day,  and  I  want  to  go  to  the  quar- 
ters. Come  along." 

Now  Dick  had  a  double  grievance  against  this  imperious 
young  person.  He  had  fallen  into  the  most  violent  love 
with  her  brown  eyes  and  pink  cheeks  the  moment  he  saw 
her ;  he  had  assiduously  striven  both  to  conceal  and  reveal 
this  maddening  condition  of  mind.  But  he  remarked  with 


TREASON*  AND  STRATAGEMS.          181 

ungovernable  wrath  that,  whenever  Jack  or  Wesley  came 
about,  the  heartless  young  jilt,  made  as  if  she  didn't  know 
him ;  quite  ignored  him,  and  cared  no  more  for  his  simple 
adoration  than  she  did  for  the  frisky  gambols  of  Pizarro,  the 
mastiff.  But  she  was  so  adorable ;  her  Southern  accent  was 
so  bewitching ;  she  put  so  much  softness  in  those  amusing 
idioms  "  I  reckon  "  and  "  Seems  like,"  "  You  others,"  and  the 
countless  little  tricks  of  the  Southern  vernacular,  that  Dick 
passed  sleepless  hours  and  delicious  days  dreaming  and  sigh- 
ing and  groaning  and  doing  all  manner  of  unreasonable 
things— that  we  all  do  when  we  meet  our  first  Rosas  and 
they  light  the  torch  for  other  feet  more  favored  than  our  own. 

So,  when  Rosa  called  him  to  accompany  her,  Dick  took 
the  round  basket  she  held  out  to  him,  and  walked  sulkily 
ahead  of  her,  never  opening  his  mouth.  When  he  had 
stalked  along  through  the  currant  bushes,  he  half  turned  his 
face ;  she  was  walking  demurely  behind  him.  and  he  made  a 
pretext  of  picking  a  currant  to  give  her  a  chance  to  come 
abreast.  She  did,  and  passed  him  trippingly,  saying,  as  she 
cast  a  sympathetic  side  glance  at  him  : 

"  Toothache  ? " 

He  stood  rooted  to  the  spot  with  indignant  amazement. 
The  heartless  little  minx  !  How  dare  she  talk  like  that  to  a 
soldier  ? 

"Did  you  call  some  one.  Miss  Atterbury  ?"  he  said,  with 
chilling  dignity.  Usually  he  called  her  plain  Rosa. 

"  I  thought  may  be  you  had  the  toothache— you  kept  so 
quiet." 

"  No ;  I  haven't  got  the  toothache."  Poor  Dick !  He  said, 
to  himself,  that  he  had  much  worse.  But  he  wouldn't  grat- 
ify her  with  the  acknowledgment  of  her  triumph,  and  he 
stalked  along  with  the  basket  over  his  head,  as  he  had  often 
seen  the  darkeys  in  the  sun.  There  was  a  faint  little  ap- 
pealing cry  from  behind. 

«  Oh— oh— dear  ! " 

"  What  is  it;  are  you  hurt  ?"  he  cried,  rushing  to  where 
Rosa  stood,  balanced  on  one  foot. 

"  There  is  a  crab  thorn  an  inch  long  in  my  foot ;  it's  gone 


182  THE   IRON   GAME. 

through  shoe  and  all.  That  wretched  Sardanapalus  never 
clears  the  limbs  away  when  he  cuts  the  hedge.  I'll  have 
him  horsewhipped.  Oh,  dear  !  " 

"  Let  me  hold  you  while  I  look  for  the  thorn." 

Dick  cleverly  slipped  his  arm  about  her  waist  and  set  the 
basket  endwise  for  her  to  sit  on.  Then  kneeling,  he  picked 
out  the  thorn,  which  was  a  great  deal  less  than  the  dimen- 
sions Rosa  had  described.  But  he  said  nothing  to  her  about 
picking  the  torment  out  and  slipping  it  in  his  vest  pocket. 
He  held  the  foot,  examining  the  sole  critically.  Finally,  as 
she  moved  impatiently,  he  asked  : 

"  Does  it  hurt  yet  ? " 

"  Of  course  it  does,  you  stupid  fellow.  Do  you  suppose  I 
would  sit  here  like  a  goose  on  a  gridiron  and  let  you  hold 
my  foot  if  it  didn't  hurt  ?  Men  never  have  any  sense  when 
they  ought  to." 

He  affected  to  examine  the  sole  of  the  thin  leather  of  the 
upper  still  more  minutely.  As  she  gave  no  sign  of  ending 
the  comedy,  he  said  : 

"  I'm  sure,  Rosa,  if  it  relieves  the  pain  to  have  me  hold 
your  foot,  I'll  sit  here  in  the  sun  all  day — if  you'll  bring  the 
rim  of  your  hat  over  a  little — but,  as  for  the  thorn,  it  has 
been  out  this  ten  minutes." 

She  gave  him  a  sudden  push  and  darted  away.  He  fol- 
lowed laughing,  admonishing  her  against  another  thorn. 
But  she  deigned  no  answer.  Coming  to  the  bee-hives,  she 
stopped  a  moment  to  watch  the  busy  swarm,  and  Dick  stole 
up  beside  her.  She  turned  pettishly,  and  he  said,  insinuat- 
ingly : 

"Toothache?" 

"  You  know,  Dick,  you're  too  trying  for  anything— hold- 
ing my  foot  there  like  a  ninny  in  the  hot  sun.  You  haven't 
a  thimbleful  of  sense." 

"  Well,  now  we'll  test  these  propositions,  as  Jack  does,  by 
syllogisms.  Let  me  see.  All  men  are  trying.  Dick  Perley 
is  a  man;  therefore  he  is  trying." 

"  No ;  your  premise— isn't  that  what  you  call  it  ? — is 
wrong.  Dick  Perley  is  only  a  boy." 


TREASON   AND   STRATAGEMS.  183 

"  I'll  be  nineteen  in  January  next." 

"Well?" 

"Well,  your  father  was  married  at  nineteen.  You've 
said  it  yourself,  Rosa,  and  thought  it  greatly  to  his  credit — 
at  least  Vint  does." 

"You  can't  imitate  my  father  in  that,  at  least." 

"I  might." 

"  How  ? " 

"  You  could  help  me,  Rosa." 

"  How  ? " 

"  Would  you  if  you  could  ? " 

"That  depends." 

"  On  what  ? " 

"On  the  girl." 

"Ah  !  she's  a  perfect  girl,  but  she's  very  young,"  and 
Dick  eyed  Rosa  with  ineffable  complacency. 

"That's  bad." 

"  But  she's  older  than  she  looks." 

" That's  worse;  you'd  grow  tired  of  her." 

"  No,  no ;  I  don't  mean  she's  older  than  she  looks ;  her 
mind  is  older  than  her  looks." 

"  Women  with  minds  make  troublesome  wives.  I  have 
refused  to  let  Vincent  marry  several  of  that  kind." 

"But,  my  girl  hasn't  got  that  kind  of  mind;  it  is  all 
sweetness  and  wit  and  gayety  and  loveliness  and — and — ' 

"  Your  girl  ?    Who  gave  her  to  you  ? " 

"  Love  gave  her  to  me." 

"  Oh,  well,  since  love  gave  her  to  you,  I  don't  see  how  I 
can  be  of  any  service.  Down  here  the  mother  always  gives 
the  girl,  unless  'she  have  no  mother;  then  some  other  kin 
gives  her.  But  if  your  girl  has  all  these  qualities  you  de- 
scribe, I  advise  you  to  get  her  into  your  own  keeping  just  as 
soon  as  you  can,  for  that's  the  sort  of  girl  all  the  fellows 
about  here  are  seeking." 

"  Very  well,  I'm  ready.  Will  you  help  me  ?  It  comes 
back  where  we  started." 

"But  you  evaded  my  question." 

"  What  question  did  I  evade  ?    I  answered  like  an  ency- 


151  TEE   IRON"   GAME. 

clopaxlia  '. "  Dick  cried,  immensely  satisfied  with  his  own 


"  That  convicts  you ;  an  encyclopaedia  has  nothing  about 
living  people/' 

"Oh,  yes;  the  new  ones  do."  Dick  was  now  very  near 
her  as  she  stood  contemplating  the  bees,  swarming  in  the 
comb.  "  O  Eosa — Rosa,  you  know  I  love  you.  and  you 
know  I  can  never  love  anybody  else.  Why  will  you  pre- 
tend not  to  understand  me  ?  I  don't  want  you  to  marry  me 
now.  but  by  and  by.  when  I  shall  have  made  a  name  as  a 
soldier,  or — or  something."  he  added  in  painful  turbulence 
of  joy  and  fear — over  the  great  words — which  he  had  been 
racking  his  small  wits  to  fashion  for  weeks  past.  and.  now 
that  they  were  spoken,  were  not  nearly  so  impressive  as  he 
had  intended  they  should  be. 

"  My  dear  Eichard,  you  are  a  perfect  boy — a  very  delight- 
ful boy.  too,  and  I  am  extremely  fond  of  you — oh.  very,  very 
fond  of  you — but  you  really  must  not  make  love  to  me.  It 
isn't  proper,"  and  Rosa  glanced  into  his  eyes  with  a  tender 
little  gleam,  that  gave  more  encouragement  than  rebuff — 
for  it  came  into  her  mind,  in  a  moment,  that  it  was  not  a 
time  to  hurt  the  bright  eager  love — so  winning,  if  boyish. 

"  Nonsense,  Rosa,  it  is  perfectly  proper;  everybody  makes 
love  to  you :  Jack  makes  love  to  you,  and  he  is  as  good  as 
engaged — "  But  here  it  suddenly  flashed  in  Dick's  mad 
head  that  he  was  meddling,  and  he  stopped  short  Rosa 
had  turned  upon  him  with  a  flash  of  such  scorn,  such  indig- 
nant pain,  that  he  cried : 

"  No.  no :  I  don't  mean  that ;  but  you  know  fellows  do 
make  love  to  you.  and  why  mayn't  I  .' 

She  flirted  away  from  him  too  angry  or  mortified  to 
speak.  He  could  not  see  her  face,  for  she  pulled  the  ample 
breadth  of  the  hat-brim  down,  which  served  at  once  as  a  veil 
to  shut  out  her  visage  and  a  sweeping  sort  of  funnel  to  keep 
him  far  from  her  side,  as  she  tripped  determinedly  to  the 
pleasant  group  of  clean,  whitewashed  cabins,  where  the  ne- 
groes abode.  Poor  Dick,  vexed  with  himself— angry  at  her 
for  being  irritated — waited  in  the  hot  sun  until  she  had  end- 


TREASON   AND   STRATAGEMS.  185 

ed  her  commands,  and  when  she  came  out  to  return  he  re- 
pentantly sidled  up,  imploring  pardon  in  every  movement. 
She  couldn't  resist  the  big.  pleading  blue  eyes,  and  said, 
quite  as  if  there  had  been  deep  discussion  on  the  point : 
u  I  don't  think  you  mean  to  be  a  bad  boy." 
"  I'm  not  a  boy.  I'm  a  soldier.     It  isn't  fair  in  you  to  call 
me  a  boy." 

**  You're  not  a  girl."1 

u  If  I  were  I  wouldn't  be  so  heartless  as  some  I  know/' 
"  And  if  I  were  a  boy  I  wouldn't  be  so  silly  as  some  I 
know." 

"  Yes,  I  think  Southern  boys  are  quite  soft.'' 
'*  Come,  sir,  my  brother  icas  a  Southern  boy." 
"  Yes,  but  he  always  lived  North,  and  is  like  us." 
u  Jackanapes  I " 


"  How  dare  you,  sir  ? " 

u  Oh,  just  as  easy,  I  dare  do  all  that  becomes  a  man — who 
dares  do  more  is  none.  You  are  Rosa,  and  you  are  dear—" 

-  Not  to  you." 

uYou  cost  me  enough  to  be  dear  and  you  are  lovely 
enough  to  be  '  Rosa '  in  Latin,  Rose  hi  English,  and  sweet- 
heart in  any  tongue." 

"  You're  much  too  pert.  Boys  so  glib  as  you  never  really 
love.  They  think  thev  do  and  perhaps  they  do — just  a  lit- 
tle." 

"Ah  !  a  '  little  more  than  a  little,'  dear  Rosa." 

u  You're  quoting  Shakespeare.  I  suppose  you  know  ?  Til 
quote  more:  •  A  little  more  than  a  little  is  much  too  much.' " 

"A  little  less  than  all  is  much  too  little  for  me.  So, 
Rosa,  give  all  or  none." 

"  I  don't  understand  you." 

That's  proof  you  love  me.  Girls  never  love  fellows 
they  understand." 

''  Prove  that  I  love  you." 

"Well,  you  don't  hate  me.  You  don't  hate  Vincent 
Therefore  you  love  him.  Ergo,  you  love  me." 

"Simpleton." 


186  THE   IRON   GAME. 

"True  love  is  always  simple.  Here,  take  this  white  rose 
as  a  sign  that  you  don't  hate  me."  He  plucked  a  large  half- 
opened  bud  from  a  great  sprouting  branch  and  held  it  to- 
ward her. 

"  But  the  red  rose  is  my  favorite." 

"  Well,  here  is  a  red  one.  Give  me  the  white.  That  is 
my  favorite.  Now  we've  exchanged  tokens.  The  rose  al- 
ways goes  before  the  ring.  I'll  get  that. " 

"  If  you  were  a  true  lover  you  would  wear  my  colors." 

''These  white  leaves  will  grow  red  resting  on  my 
heart." 

"  When  they  do  I  will  listen  to  you." 

"  Will  you,  though  ?  It  is  a  promise ;  when  this  white 
rose  is  red  you  will  love  me  ? " 

"  Oh,  yes,  I  can  promise  that." 

"  Dear  Rosa ! "  He  was  very  near  her  as  she  disentangled 
an  obtruding  vine  from  her  garments,  and  before  she  was 
aware  of  his  purpose  he  had  audaciously  snatched  a  kiss 
from  her  astonished  lips. 

"  You  odious  Yankee !  I  haven't  words  to  express  my  dis- 
gust— abhorrence ! " 

"  Don't  try,  love  needs  no  words ;  but  I'll  tell  you :  let  me 
put  this  white  rose  to  your  lips ;  it  will  turn  red  at  the  touch, 
and  in  that  way  you  can  take  your  kiss  back,  if  you  really 
want  it ;  then  there'll  be  a  fair  exchange.  I — " 

"  Hello,  there !  are  you  two  grafting  roses  ? " 

It  was  Wesley,  coming  from  the  lower  garden,  where  the 
stream  was  narrowest  beyond  the  high  wall  of  hedge. 

"  Oh,  no,  Mr.  Boone :  Richard  here  is  studying  the  color 
in  flowers.  He  has  a  theory  that  eclipses  Goethe's  '  Farben- 
lehre.' " 

"  Oh,  indeed ! "  Wesley  was  quite  unconscious  of  what 
Goethe's  doctrine  of  colors  might  be,  so  he  prudently  avoid- 
ed urging  fuller  particulars  regarding  Dick's  theory,  and 
said,  vaguely: 

"You  have  color  enough  here  to  theorize  on,  I'm  sure." 

"  Yes,  we  have  had  very  satisfactory  experiments,"  Dick 
assented  naively,  stealing  a  glance  at  Rosa. 


A  CAMPAIGN  OF  PLOTS.  187 

"  But  quite  inconclusive,"  she  rejoined,  moving  onward, 
the  two  young  men  following  in  the  penumbra  of  her  wide 
hat. 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 

A  CAMPAIGN  OF  PLOTS. 

MEANWHILE,  there  were  curious  events  passing  and  coin- 
ing to  pass  on  the  seven  hills  upon  which  the  proud  young 
capital  of  the  proud  young  Confederacy  stood.  Rome,  in 
her  most  imperial  days,  never  dreamed  of  the  scenic  glories 
that  Richmond,  like  a  spoiled  beauty,  was  hardly  conscious 
of  holding  as  her  dower.  Indeed,  such  is  the  necromantic 
mastery  of  the  passion  of  the  beautiful  that,  once  standing 
on  the  glorious  hill,  that  commands  the  James  for  twenty 
miles — twenty  miles  of  such  varied  loveliness  of  color,  con- 
figuration, and  mis  en  scene,  that  the  purple  distances  of 
Naples  seem  common  to  it— standing  there,  I  say,  one  day, 
when  the  sword  had  long  been  rusting  in  the  scabbard,  and 
the  memory  of  those  who  raised  it  in  revolt  had  faded 
from  all  minds  save  those  who  wanted  office — this  historian 
thought  that,  had  it  been  his  lot  to  be  born  in  that  lovely 
spot,  he,  too,  would  have  fought  for  State  caprices — just  as  a 
gallant  man  will  take  up. the  quarrel  of  beauty,  right  or 
wrong  ! 

Thoughts  of  this  sort  filled  Barney  Moore's  mind  too, 
that  delicious  September  afternoon  as  he  stood  gazing  dream- 
ily down  the  river,  toward  that  vague  morning-land  of  the 
sun's  rising,  where  his  mind  saw  the  long  lines  of  blue  his 
eyes  ached  to  rest  on.  Barney  had  left  the  kindly  roof  where 
he  had  been  nursed  back  to  vigor.  He  had  quit  it  in  a  fash- 
ion that  left  a  rankling  sorrow  in  his  grateful  heart.  Vin- 
cent had  represented  to  Jack  the  inconvenience  it  would  be, 
the  peril,  rather,  for  him  to  assume  the  guardianship  of  so 
many  enemies  of  the  Confederacy.  Scores  of  the  old  fami- 


188  THE   IRON   GAME. 

lies  of  the  city  were  under  the  ban  simply  because  they  had 
pleaded  for  deliberation  before  deciding  on  the  secession 
ordinance.  The  Atterburys  had  their  enemies  too.  It  was 
pointed  out  that  Vincent  and  Rosa  had  been  educated  in 
the  North ;  that  Mrs.  Atterbury  had  spent  many  of  her  re- 
cent summers  there.  Their  devotion  to  the  Confederacy 
must  be  shown  by  deeds.  It  was  true  they  had  given  twenty 
thousand  dollars  to  the  cause,  but  what  was  that  to  threefold 
millionaires  ?  General  Lee,  their  kinsman,  had  shaken  his 
Socratic  head  solemnly  when  Rosa,  at  the  War  Department, 
told  him,  as  an  excellent  joke,  the  strange  chance  that  had 
brought  Vincent's  college  chum  and  his  family  under  the 
kind  Rosedale  roof. 

Richard  Perley  was,  therefore,  deputized  to  rescue  Barney 
from  his  false  position  and  give  him  a  chance  for  exchange 
when  the  time  came.  He  journeyed  up  to  Richmond,  and, 
one  day,  laid  these  facts  before  Barney,  who  instantly  saw 
his  friend's  dilemma,  and  at  once  set  about  inventing  a  ruse 
that  should  extricate  him,  without  mortifying  the  kind  peo- 
ple who  had  befriended  him.  When  he  was  able  to  be 
about,  he  feigned  a  desire  to  go  to  his  friends  in  Arrowfield 
County,  south  of  the  James,  and  was  bidden  hearty  God- 
speed. Then,  with  funds  supplied  by  Jack,  he  gained  ad- 
mittance to  a  modest  house  far  out  on  Main  Street,  where 
the  city  merges  into  the  country.  They  were  simple  people, 
and  his  thrilling  tale  of  being  a  refugee  from  Harper's  Ferry 
was  plausible  enough  to  be  accepted  by  more  skeptical  peo- 
ple than  the  Gannats. 

Day  after  day  Barney  skirted  furtively  about  the  uncom- 
promising walls  of  Libby  and  Castle  Thunder,  where  once 
or  twice  he  had  gone  with  his  hosts  to  make  a  mental  dia- 
gram of  the  place  for  future  use.  Little  by  little  he  became 
familiar  with  Richmond,  which,  like  a  new  bride,  gave  the 
visitor  welcome  to  admire  her  splendid  spouse,  the  Confed- 
erate government.  He  learned  all  the  plots  of  the  prison, 
and  became  the  confidant  of  Letitia  Lanview,  known  to 
every  exile  in  Richmond  as  the  friend  of  the  suffering — St. 
Veronica  she  was  called— after  a  poem  dedicated  to  her  by  a 


A   CAMPAIGN   OF    PLOTS.  189 

young  Harvard  graduate,  rescued  by  her  perseverance  from 
death  in  Libby  Prison.  With  this  lady  he  drove  all  about 
the  environs  of  Richmond,  and  several  times  far  out  toward 
the  meditated  route  of  flight,  in  order  that  he  might  be  able  to 
lead  the  bewildered  refugees.  He  got  the  whole  landscape  by 
heart,  and  could  have  led  a  battalion  over  it  in  the  dark.  Then 
he  passed  days  wandering  over  the  Libby  Hill,  down  in  the  bed 
of  the  "Rockets,"  as  the  bed  of  the  James  was  known  in  those 
days ;  he  learned  the  ground  to  the  very  beat  of  the  patrols 
that  guarded  the  wretched  prisoners  in  the  towering  sham- 
bles. One  whole  night,  too,  he  spent  in  marking  the  course 
of  the  guards  as  they  changed  in  two-hour  reliefs.  With 
his  facts  well  collected  he  visited  Mrs.  Lanview,  and  at  last 
he  was  confronted  by  Butler's  agent.  This  agent  was  a  mid- 
dle-aged man,  who  had  evidently  once  been  very  handsome, 
but  dissipation  had  left  pitiable  traces  upon  his  fine  features, 
and  his  once  large,  open  eyes,  that  perplexingly  suggested 
some  one  Barney  tried  in  vain  to  recall — vainly  ?  The  man 
didn't  say  much  in  the  lady's  presence,  but  when  the  two 
were  in  the  open  air,  facing  toward  the  center  of  the  town, 
he  divulged  a  good  deal  that  surprised  Barney. 

"  You  are  from  Acredale,  young  man.  I  lived  there  when 
I  was  younger  than  I  am  now.  My  name  ?  People  call  me 
a  good  many  names.  I  don't  mind  at  all,  so  that  I  have  rum 
enough  and  a  bed  and  a  bite  to  eat.  No  man  can  have  more 
than  that,  my  boy.  I  am  plain  Dick  Jones  now.  It's  an  easy 
name,  and  plenty  of  the  same  in  the  land ;  and  if  I  should 
die  suddenly  there  would  be  lots  o'  folks  to  feel  sorry,  eh  ? 
But  as  you  are  from  Acredale  I  don't  mind  telling  you  that 
it  is  Elisha  Boone  that  foots  the  bill.  Butler  is  a  friend  of 
Boone's,  and  he  has  given  me  authority  to  summon  all  the 
troops  within  reach  to  my  aid.  My  business  is  to  carry 
young  Wes  Boone  to  Fort  Monroe.  Butler  doesn't  know 
that.  He  thinks  I  am  spying  Jeff  Davis  and  piping  for  the 
prisoners.  He  didn't  say  that  he  wanted  me  to  kill  Davis, 
but  if  we  could  carry  him  to  Fort  Monroe,  my  boy,  there'd 
be  about  a  million  dollars  swag  to  divide !  How  does  that 
strike  you  ? " 


190  THE   IRON   GAME. 

"  It  doesn't  strike  me  at  all.  I  think  it  is  for  the  interest 
of  the  Union  that  Davis  should  be  where  he  is.  He  is  vain, 
arrogant,  silly,  and  dull.  He  will  alone  wreck  the  rebel 
cause  if  he  is  given  time.  There  couldn't  be  a  greater 
misfortune  for  the  North  than  to  have  Davis  displaced  by 
some  one  of  real  ability,  such  as  Stephens,  Lee,  Benjamin, 
Mason,  Breckenridge,  or,  in  fact,  any  of  the  men  identified 
with  secession." 

"  You  surprise  me,  my  son.  Still,  admitting  all  you  say, 
the  men  who  should  surprise  the  North  some  fine  morn- 
ing with  a  present  of  Jeff  Davis  on  their  breakfast-plates, 
wouldn't  be  without  honor,  to  say  nothing  of  promotion  and 
profit  ? " 

"  Oh,  if  we  can  carry  Jeff  off  without  compromising  the 
safety  of  the  prisoners,  I'll  -join  you  heartily.  But  first  of  all 
we  must  rescue  them."  - 

"  Unquestionably ;  now,  here's  the  programme :  Butler's 
forces  will  be  within  gunshot  of  Magruder's  lines  on  War- 
wick Creek  Thursday — that's  three  days  from  now.  The 
prisoners  will  be  out  of  the  sewer  Wednesday  after  mid- 
night. You  know  the  roads  eastward.  You  will  lead 
them  to  the  swamps  near  Williamsburg.  There  we  will 
have  boats  to  take  part  down  the  river;  the  rest  will  make 
through  the  swamps  under  my  lead.  I  have  been  spying 
out  the  land  for  a  week.  At  a  place  called  Rosedale  we 
pick  up  young  Boone,  who  is  really  the  object  of  my  jour- 
ney. I  couldn't  find  him  for  weeks,  and  inquired  of  all  the 
prisoners.  Mrs.  Lanview  finally  put  me  on  the  track,  and 
I  saw  Wes  Boone  as  I  came  up  here.  He  thought  the 
chances  were  better  with  a  big  party  than  alone.  I  saw  him 
again  yesterday,  and  he  told  me  that  Davis  and  Lee,  his 
chief  of  staff,  were  to  be  at  a  party  in  the  Rosedale  house  on 
Thursday  next.  Now,  we  can  pick  up  Davis  just  as  well  as 
Boone.  There  is  the  whole  plan." 

"  Oh,  that's  a  different  matter.  Davis  will  not  be  near 
the  city,  and  his  keeping  will  not  add  to  our  danger.  I  see 
no  reason  why  we  shouldn't  grab  him.  Heavens,  what  a 
sensation  it  will  make!  We  shall  be  the  wonder  of  the 


A   CAMPAIGN   OF   PLOTS.  191 

North — we  shall  be  like  the  men  that  discovered  Andre  and 
Arnold— Paulding  and— and  "—but  here  Barney's  historical 
facts  came  to  an  end — "  we  shall  be  famous  for — forever ! " 

"  For  a  week,  my  son ;  wonders  don't  live  long  in  these 
fast  days.  For  a  week  the  North  will  glorify  us;  then,  if 
they  find  that  we  voted  for  Douglas,  as  I  did,  they  will  say 
we  had  some  sinister  design  in  bringing  Davis  North,  and 
likely  send  us  to  Fort  Lafayette." 

Barney  stopped  dead ;  they  had  come  under  a  gas-lamp 
between  Grace  and  Franklin  Streets.  He  looked  at  the 
man.  He  was  quite  sober.  His  eyes  answered  the  young 
man's  indignant  protesting  glance,  openly,  unshrinkingly, 
humorously. 

"I  should  be  sorry  to  think  that,  Mr.  Jones." 

"  Well,  wait.  When  you  get  North  you  will  see  a  mighty 
change  in  things.  Sentiment,  my  boy,  follows  the  main 
chance.  It's  money,  my  boy,  money.  Enough  money  would 
have  made  Judas  respectable ;  he  was  fool  enough  to  put  his 
price  too  low." 

"  Ugh ! — you  almost  make  me  hate  the  North !  Who  can 
have  heart  to  fight  for  such  heartless  traffickers  ?  " 

"  The  North  doesn't  ask  your  heart.  It  has  counted  the 
cost,  and  finds  that  it  can  pay  a  million  of  men  thirteen  dol- 
lars a  month  for  three  years,  and  still  make  a  good  thing 
out  of  it — that's  about  the  breadth  of  it.  Here's  an  oasis  in 
the  desert  of  darkness.  Come  and  have  a  drink  ? " 

But  Barney— not  caring  for  a  drink,  the  cynic — gave  him 
his  address,  and,  dreadfully  cast  down  in  spirit,  the  eager 
partisan  moped  up  the  long  hill  homeward.  The  next  day 
Mrs.  Lanview  gave  him  the  details  of  the  meditated  escape. 
There  were  only  sixty  or  a  hundred  in  position  to  avail  them- 
selves of  the  subterranean  way  that  had  been  toilsomely  dug, 
by  a  few  devoted  spirits,  with  tools  casually  dropped  among 
them  by  the  guileless  Veronica  during  her  daily  visits.  The 
plotters  counted  on  at  least  six  hours'  start  before  discovery. 
The  guards  were  not  to  be  disturbed,  and  the  evasion  would 
not  be  known  until  eight  o'clock,  when  the  miserable  break- 
fast ration  was  distributed. 
13 


192  THE   IRON   GAME. 

Of  that  amazing  exploit,  the  digging  through  twenty  solid 
feet  of  earth  and  stone,  I  do  not  propose  to  tell.  It  is  to  be 
found  in  the  journals  of  tho  day :  it  is  contained  in  the  hun- 
dred pathetic  narratives  of  the  men  who  took  part.  It  has 
nothing  to  do  with  this  history  beyond  the  use  made  of  it  to 
mislead  the  ingenious  Barney,  and  in  the  end  complicate 
the  careers  of  those  in  whom  we  are  interested.  Suffice  it, 
therefore,  to  say  that  in  the  dim  morning  mist,  as  arranged, 
a  shadowy  host  emerged  on  the  river-bottom,  now  dry  and 
footable;  that  each  man,  as  he  crawled  from  the  pit,  was 
directed  into  the  thick  willows  bordering  the  banks;  that 
when  six  score  or  more  had  clambered  out  they  obeyed  a 
whispered  command,  for  which  Veronica  had  prepared  them, 
and  noiselessly,  in  shadowy  single  file,  they  followed  the 
bed  of  the  stream,  even  where  the  water  flowed  deep  and 
dangerous,  until  they  came  to  the  gentle  slopes  of  Church 
Hill.  Then,  under  guidance  of  Barney,  those  who  we.ro 
wise  followed  swiftly  down  the  river-road  until  daylight, 
when  they  hid  in  the  dim  recesses  of  the  white-oak  swamps, 
where  they  lay  concealed  many  hours.  As  night  fell  they 
faced  hopefully  forward  down  the  Williamsburg  road,  until 
a  flaming  wave  in  the  air  admonished  them  to  strike  to  the 
right,  and  they  plunged  into  the  pathless  swamps  of  the 
Chickahominy.  Here  they  were  secure.  No  force  able  to 
cope  with  them  could"  enter;  no  force  at  the  command  of 
Magruder  could  surround  them.  But  Barney's  guiding  hand 
was  now  replaced  by  another.  Jones  had  appeared,  and 
with  him  men  bearing  Butler's  commission.  The  prison- 
ers of  Libby  set  up  a  defiant  cheer.  They  were  once  more 
under  the  flag.  Father  Abraham  was  again  their  com- 
mander. 

There  were  sedate,  fatherly  men  among  these  rescued 
bands.  There  were  men  with  gray  hairs  and  sober  behav- 
ior; men  who  could  bow  meekly  under  the  chastening  rod; 
but  the  antics  of  the  juvenile  group,  in  which  we  are  main- 
ly interested,  were  grave  and  decorous  compared  with  the 
abandoned,  delirious  joy  of  these  grave  men  as  they  reached 
the  recesses  of  a  swamp  that  denied  admission  to  all  save 


A   CAMPAIGN   OF   PLOTS.  193 

practiced  explorers.  Why,  here  they  could  subsist  for 
weeks !  The  rebels  might  spy  them,  might  surround  them, 
but  they  need  not  starve — the  buds  were  food,  the  bushes 
refreshment,  the  pellucid  pools  drink  and  life.  Barney 
stared  in  speechless  amazement  at  the  unseemly  gambols  of 
the  motley  mass. 

Delirium !  it  was  a  mild  term  for  the  embracing,  the  pranc- 
ing, the  Carrnagnole-like  ecstasy  of  the  half-clad  madmen 
running  amuck  in  the  almost  unendurable  joy  of  liberation. 
Barney  knew  that  this  condition  of  things  would  never  do. 
All  who  bore  commissions  in  the  army  were  selected  from 
the  men.  The  highest  in  rank,  who  proved  to  be  a  colonel, 
was  invested  with  the  command,  Barney  serving  as  adju- 
tant, and  Jones  as  guide.  The  rabble,  having  made  a  good 
meal  from  the  spoil  of  a  sweet-potato  patch,  pushed  forward 
through  the  fretwork  of  fern,  rank  morass,  and  verdure, 
toward  security.  But  the  march  was  a  snail's  pace,  as  may 
be  imagined.  The  men,  worn  to  skeletons  by  months  of 
captivity,  insufficient  food,  and  stinted  exercise,  were  forced 
to  halt  often  for  rest  in  such  toilsome  marching  as  the  half- 
aquatic  surface  of  the  swamp  involved. 

By  Thursday  noon  they  were  still  far  from  the  river. 
Foragers  were  detailed  to  procure  food,  and  pending  their 
return  the  wearied  band  sank  to  the  earth  to  rest.  In  less 
than  two  hours  the  predatory  platoon  returned  with  a  syba- 
ritic store — chickens,  young  lamb,  green  corn,  onions.  Only 
the  stern  command  of  the  colonel  suppressed  a  mighty  cheer. 
When  the  march  was  resumed  the  colonel  led  the  main  col- 
umn south  by  east.  Jones,  with  Barney  and  a  dozen  men, 
struck  due  east.  In  answer  to  Barney's  surprised  question, 
Jones  informed  him  they  were  to  pick  up  "  Wes  "  Boone  by 
taking  that  route.  Difficult  as  the  way  had  been  heretofore, 
it  now  became  laborious  in  the  extreme  for  this  smaller 
band..  The  bottom  was  all  under  water,  and  before  they 
had  proceeded  a  mile  half  the  group  were  drenched.  In 
many  cases  an  imprudent  plunger  was  compelled  to  call  a 
halt  to  rescue  his  shoes  —  that  is,  those  who  were  lucky 
enough  to  have  shoes— from  the  deep  mud,  hidden  by  a  fair 


194:  THE   IRON   GAME. 

green  surface  of  moss  or  tendrils.  It  was  a  wondrous  jour- 
ney to  Barney.  The  pages  of  Sindbad  alone  seemed  to  have 
a  parallel  for  the  awful  mysteries  of  that  long,  long  flight 
through  jungles  of  towering  timber,  whose  leaves  and  bark 
were  as  unfamiliar  as  Brazilian  growth  to  the  troops  of  Pi- 
zarro  or  the  Congo  vegetation  to  the  French  pioneer.  Jones 
and  his  comrades  saw  nothing  but  the  hardships  of  the 
march  and  the  delay  of  the  painful  detours  in  the  solemn 
glades.  The  direction  was  kept  by  compass,  many  of  the 
men  having  been  supplied  with  a  miniature  instrument  by 
the  prudent  foresight  of  Mrs.  Lanview,  who  was  niggard  of 
neither  time  nor  money  in  the  cause  she  had  at  heart.  In 
spite  of  every  effort  a  march  so  swift  that  it  would  have  ex- 
hausted cavalry,  Jones's  ranks  did  not  reach  the  rendezvous 
until  midnight.  At  about  that  hour  the  exhausted  fugitives 
came  suddenly  upon  a  wride,  open  plain,  and  far  below  them, 
in  the  valley,  a  vision  of  light  and  life  shone  through  the 
dark. 

u  There,  boys,  we're  at  the  end  of  our  first  stage.  Unless 
I'm  much  mistaken,  that  bit  of  merry-making  yonder  will 
cost  the  Confederacy  a  chief." 

"  But  is  it  certain  that  Davis  is  there  ? "  asked  the  man 
Jones  called  Moon,  who  seemed  to  be  his  intimate. 

"  Ah,  that  we  will  learn  so  soon  as  Nasmyd  reports.  We 
will  give  the  signal  when  we  reach  that  fringe  of  wood  yon- 
der. It's  back  of  the  grounds,  separated  from  them  by  a 
hard  piece  of  swamp  and  water. — Men,  you  must  follow  now 
in  single  file,  and  when  we  get  in  the  swamp,  mind,  a  single 
step  out  of  line  will  cost  you  your  lives,  for,  sucked  into  that 
morass,  wild  horses  can't  pull  you  out." 

Then,  as  they  plunged  anew  in  the  gloomy  deeps  of 
swamp  and  brake,  the  friendly  lights  were  lost  and  the  de- 
pressed wayfarers  struggled  on  with  something  of  the  feel- 
ing of  a  crew  cast  away  at  sea,  who,  thrown  upon  the  crest 
of  a  rising  billow,  catch  a  near  glimpse  of  a  great  ship,  light 
and  taut,  riding  serenely  havenward  to  lose  it  the  next  in 
the  dire  waste.  Presently  the  melancholy  bird-notes  that  had 
puzzled  Jack  in  the  same  vicinity  days  before  broke  out  just 


A  CAMPAIGN   OF   PLOTS.  195 

in  front  of  Barney,  who  was  clambering  along,  the  third 
man  from  the  head  of  the  little  column.  Again,  after  a  long 
pause,  the  sweet,  plaintive  note  was  re-echoed  from  a  dis- 
tance. 

"  Ah,  all  is  well  ! "  he  heard  Jones  ejaculate  triumph- 
antly. "  We  are  in  time  and  we  are  waited  for. — Now, 
men,  put  all  the  heart  that's  in  you  to  the  next  half- 
hour's  work.  No  danger,  but  just  cool  heads  and  strong 
arms. " 

This  good  news  was  conveyed  from  man  to  man,  and  the 
toilsome  movement  briskly  accelerated  under  the  inspiring 
watchword.  Shortly  afterward  the  larger  growth — cypress 
and  oak— diminished,  as  the  band  straggled  into  the  open, 
starry  night  at  the  margin  of  what  they  could  tell  was 
water  by  the  croaking  of  frogs  and  plashing  of  night  birds 
and  reptiles.  Then  the  train  was  halted.  Jones  left  Nas- 
myd  in  command  and  plunged  into  a  thick  skirt  of  bushes. 
Now  Barney,  hot  and  dirty  from  the  march,  had  shot  ahead 
when  he  heard  the  ripple  of  the  water.  He  had  taken  off 
his  shoes  to  bathe  his  blistered  and  swollen  feet,  and  sat 
quite  still  and  restful  under  the  leafy  sprays  of  an  odorous 
bush  that  even  in  the  dark  he  knew  to  be  honeysuckle. 

"  Well,"  he  heard  Jones  cry  in  an  exultant  whisper, 
"  we've  done  it.  The  woman  is  a  trump.  There  are  a  hun- 
dred nearly  of  the  prisoners  gone  to  the  boats.  Now  we  are 
ready  for  Boone.  Is  Davis  here  ? " 

"  Yes  ;  he  came  over  from  Williamsburg  at  eight  o'clock-, 
they  were  feasting  when  Clem  came  away  a  three  or  more 
ago." 

u  Any  cavalry  at  the  house  ?  " 

"  A  squadron  ;  but  they  are  ordered  to  be  in  saddle  for 
their  quarters  at  midnight.  There's  the  bugle  for  boots  and 
saddles  now." 

"  Yes  ;  by  the  Eternal,  what  luck  !  Davis  will  sleep 
there." 

"So  Clem  says  ;  the  state  chamber  has  been  prepared 
for  him  ;  all  the  rest  except  Lee  go  back  to  Williams- 
burg." 


196  THE   IRON   GAME. 

"We  couldn't  have  arranged  it  better  if  we  had  been 
given  the  ordering  of  it.  Are  all  the  boats  here  ? " 

"Yes." 

"  And  the  negroes — how  many  have  you  ? " 

"  I  can't  sav.  They've  been  dropping  across  in  twos  and 
threes  since  ten  o'clock.  The  curious  thing  is  that  the 
women  are  more  taken  with  the  idea  of  fight  than  the  men. 
We  shall  have  enough— too  many,  I  fear. " 

"  We'll  make  them  our  safety,  Jim,  my  boy  ;  we'll  divide 
them  up,  and,  in  case  of  pursuit,  send  them  in  different  di- 
rections to  confuse  the  troops." 

"  How  many  men  are  you  going  to  take  to  the  house  ? " 

"  Six,  with  you  and  me.  It  will  be  unsafe  to  take  more, 
as  the  boats  are  small.  I  will  go  back  and  select  the  men. 
You  get  the  boats  ready." 

Barney  hurried  on  his  shoes,  crawled  through  the  bushes, 
and  was  in  his  place  when  Jones  presently  appeared.  The 
men,  dead  tired,  were  disposed  about  on  the  ground  asleep, 
not  minding  the  damp  grass  or  the  heavy  dew  that  made  the 
air  fairly  misty. 

"Wake  four  of  the  men,"  Jones  whispered,  and  when 
they  were  aroused  he  said  to  a  tall,  reeling  shadow,  idly  wait- 
ing orders  : 

''  We'll  be  back  in  a  half-hour,  or  an  hour  at  the  farthest. 
Let  the  men  sleep  ;  they  need  it.  Sleep  yourself  if  you  want 
to.  Moon  or  I  will  come  to  rouse  you,  and  we  will  bring 
you  plenty  of  bacon  and  hominy.  Have  no  fears  if  you  hear 
movements  just  beyond  you  ;  there  are  a  couple  of  contra- 
bands here  who  go  with  us.  Here's  a  ration  of  tobacco  for 
the  men  when  they  wake,  and  a  gallon  of  whisky,  which 
you  must  serve  out  gradually." 

Revived  by  this  stimulating  news  quite  as  much  as  by 
the  whisky,  Barney  and  his  three  comrades  followed  Jones 
to  the  boats.  There  were  four — the  dug-outs  we  saw  Jack 
manoeuvring  in  the  same  waters  a  few  nights  before.  A 
negro  ?at  silent,  shadowy  in  each,  and,  when  Jones  gave  the 
word,  "  Let  drive ! "  the  barks  shot  through  the  waters,  pro- 
pelled by  the  single  scull,  as  swiftly  as  an  Indian  canoe.  In 


A   CAMPAIGN   OF   PLOTS.  197 

a  few  moments  all  debarked  on  the  grassy  knoll  behind  the 
black  line  of  hedge.  Jones  made  straight  for  the  high  door- 
way, and  inserting  a  key  it  was  noiselessly  opened. 

"  Men,"  he  whispered,  "  no  names  must  be  used  in  any 
case.  I'm  number  one,  Jim  here  is  number  two,  Moore 
number  three,  and  so  on.  Each  one  remember  his  number. 
Clem  will  remain  here  with  number  six  to  guard  the  gate. 
All  the  rest  follow  me." 

Two  negroes  joined  tho-party  that  stole  forward  through 
the  rose-field  to  the  nogro  quarters.  All  was  silent.  As 
they  reached  the  great  kitchen  behind  the  house  and  con- 
nected with  it  by  a  trellised  pavilion,  only  an  occasional 
light  could  be  seen  in  the  house.  All  were  apparently  there. 
The  ball  had  ended.  Leaving  Barney  in  charge  of  the  rest, 
Jones  and  Number  Two  crept  along  the  trellis  toward  the 
house  and  soon  disappeared  around  the  southern  corner. 
Jones  presently  returned  and  said,  exultingly : 

"The  cavalry  is  gone;  we  have  nothing  to  fear. — Plato, 
you  go  with  Number  Two  to  the  stables  and  bring  the  horses 
out ;  hold  six  and  send  the  rest  scattering  in  the  fields,  so 
that  in  case  of  anybody's  being  in  the  mind  to  follow  hell 
have  to  use  his  legs,  and  we  can  beat  them  at  that  game. 
Where  are  the  ropes  ?"  he  asked  the  black  man  left  in  the 
group. 

"In  de  kitchen,  massa." 

"  Get  them !  " 

"  Must  I  go  alone,  massa  ?" 

"That's  a  fact. — There,  Moore,  you  go  with  the  boy — 
don't  be  a  minute." 

Barney  followed  the  sable  marauder  through  the  grounds 
to  the  rear  of  the  trellis,  and  crept  with  him  through  a  win- 
dow which  stood  open.  The  kitchen  was  dark,  but  the 
negro  seemed  perfectly  familiar  with  the  place.  He  made 
directly  for  a  dark  panel  in  the  northern  wall,  opened  a 
cupboard-door,  knelt  down  and  began  to  grope  among  bot- 
tles, boxes,  and  what  not  that  housewives  gather  in  such 
receptacles. 

"•  Oh,  de  lor' !  dey  ain't  no  rope !    It's  done  gone ! " 


198  THE   IRON   GAME. 

"  Have  you  a  match  ? "  Barney  asked. 

"No,  massa,  but  dey  is  some  yondah." 

"Find  them." 

The  boy  crept  cautiously  in  the  direction  of  the  passage 
leading  into  the  house  ;  he  fumbled  about,  an  age,  as  it 
seemed  to  the  impatient  Barney,  and  at  last  uttered  an 
exclamation : 

"Got 'em?" 

"  No,  massa,  but  Ise  suah  deys  kep  dar." 

"Take  my  hand  and  lead  me." 

"  It's  molasses,  massa,  and  Ise  all  stickem,"  the  voice  in 
the  dark  whispered,  delightedly,  and  Barney  could  see  a 
double  row  of  glistening  white  ivory  in  the  dim  light  that 
came  through  the  window.  He  came  neai-er  the  clumsy 
wight,  and  saw  that  it  was  a  pan  of  batter  the  cook  had  left 
on  the  table,  probably  the  morning  griddle-cakes.  The  ne- 
gro was  a  mass  of  white,  pasty  glue,  and  knelt  on  the  floor, 
licking  his  hands  passively. 

"  Where  are  the  matches  ? " 

"Under  de  clock,  in  a  tin  safe,  massa— right  da." 

Barney  groped  angrily  about  the  table,  on  the  clock- 
shelf,  knocking  down  a  tin  dish,  that  fell  with  the  clatter 
of  a  bursting  magazine  in  the  dense  stillness  of  the  night. 
Both  drew  back  in  shadow,  waiting  with  heart-beats  that 
sounded  in  their  ears  like  tramping  horses  on  thick  sward. 
The  clamor  of  rushing  steeds  in  the  lane  suddenly  drowned 
this;  a  loud,  joyous  whinny  sounded  in  the  very  kitchen  it 
seemed,  and  there  was  a  rush  houseward  past  the  pantry 
as  of  a  troop  of  cavalry.  Then  a  blood-curdling  outcry  of 
voices,  then  shots.  Barney,  leaving  the  negro  writhing  in 
convulsions  under  the  table,  darted  to  the  window — to  the 
rendezvous.  It  was  deserted. 


"HE   EITHER   FEARS  HIS  FATE   TOO   MUCH."         199 
CHAPTER  XIX. 

"HE  EITHER  FEARS  HIS  FATE  TOO  MUCH." 

WHEN  Vincent  visited  the  stables  on  the  morning  of  that 
eagerly-looked-for  Thursday,  he  found  three  of  the  horses 
clammy  with  perspiration  and  giving  every  sign  of  having 
been  ridden!  The  awkward  and  evasive  answers  of  the 
stablemen  would  not  have  been  enough  for  any  other  than  a 
man  preoccupied  by  love.  When  Rosa  went  to  the  kitchen, 
if  her  head  had  not  been  taken  up  with  the  love  in  her  heart, 
she  must  certainly  have  remarked  that  the  stores  of  food 
prepared  for  the  household  were  curiously  diminished  and 
the  kitchen  girls  unwontedly  reserved.  Indeed,  in  any  other 
condition  than  that  in  which  the  family  now  found  them- 
selves, they  must  have  remarked  a  singular  change  in  the 
black  brigade  in  kitchen  and  garden.  But,  preocupied  each 
with  a  different  interest,  as  well  as  the  preparation  for  the 
President's  fete,  the  Atterburys  remarked  nothing  sinister 
in  the  distracted  conduct  of  their  servants,  and  had  only  a 
vague  feeling  that  the  great  event  had  in  some  sort  para- 
lyzed their  wonted  noisy  activities  and  repressed  their  usual 
chatter.  Kate's  uneasiness  and  restless  vagaries,  her  dis- 
jointed talk  and  half -guilty  evasions,  would  have  been  re- 
marked by  her  prepossessed  hosts ;  while  Wesley's  shifting 
and  moody  silence  would  have  warned  his  comrades  that 
he  was  suffering  the  pangs  of  an  evil  done  or  meditated. 
Precursive  signs  like  these — and  much  more,  which  need 
not  be  dwelt  on — the  kind  hosts  of  Rosedale  made  no  note 
of.  But  when  Vincent  opened  the  mail-bag — brought  by 
an  orderly  from  Williamsburg  every  morning,  the  first  sur- 
prise and  shock  of  the  day  was  felt — though  in  varying 
degrees  by  all  the  diverse  inmates  of  the  house. 

''Hah!  glory  to  the  Lord  of  hosts! "  the  exultant  reader 
cried,  as  he  passed  to  his  mother  a  large  official  envelope 
at  the  breakfast-table. 

"I'm  ordered  to  the  field."  he  cried,  as  Jack  looked  in- 
quiringly ;  "  I'm  to  set  out  to-night  and  report  for  duty  with 


200  THE  IRON   GAME. 

General  Johnston  to-morrow  at  Manassas.  No  more  loiter- 
ing in  my  lady's  bower;  Jack,  my  boy,  the  carpet  will  be 
clear  for  your  knightly  pranks  after  to-night." 

"  If  it  were  Aladdin's  magic  rug,  I  should  caper  nimbly 
enough,  I  warrant  you." 

"  What  would  you  wish — if  it  were  under  your  feet,  with 
its  slaves  at  your  command  ? " 

"  I  should  whisk  you  all  off — North — instanter." 

"  Ingrate ! — plunge  us  into  the  chilly  blasts  of  the  North, 
in  return  for  our  glorious  Southern  sun  ?  Fie,  Jack !  I'm 
surprised  at  such  selfish  ingratitude.  We  expected  better 
things  of  our  prisoners,"  Mrs.  Atterbury  murmured,  and 
affected  a  reproving  frown  at  the  culprit,  as  she  handed  her 
son  back  the  order,  with  a  stifled  sigh. 

"  The  sun  of  the  South  is  not  the  sun  of  York  to  us,  you 
know;  all  the  clouds  that  lower  on  our  house  are  doubly 
darkened  by  this  Southern  sun ;  even  the  warmth  of  Eose- 
dale  hearts  can  not  make  up  for  our  eclipsed  Northern  star," 
Jack  said,  sadly,  with  a  wistful  look  at  the  rival  warrior 
reading  with  sparkling  eyes  the  instructions  accompanying 
the  order  to  march. 

"  Since  Vincent  is  going  so  far  northward,  I  think  it  will 
be  a  good  time  for  us  to  go  home,"  Mrs.  Sprague  began, 
tentatively. 

"Oh— no — no!  Oh,  we  could  never  think  of  such  a 
thing,"  Rosa  cried — "  could  we,  mamma  ? " 

"  Why  should  you  go  ? "  Mrs.  Atterbury  asked.  "  Until 
Jack  is  exchanged,  you've  certainly  no  duty  in  the  North  so 
important  as  watching  over  this  headstrong  fellow.  We 
can't  think  of  your  going — unless  you  are  weary  of  us." 

"  O  Mrs.  Atterbury,  pray  don't  put  it  in  that  way  ! 
You  know  better.  Our  visit  here  has  been  perfect.  But 
you  can  understand  my  anxiety  to  be  at  home  ;  to  be  where 
I  can  aid  my  son's  release.  I  have  been  anxious  for  some 
time  to  broach  the  subject,  but  I  saw  that  our  going  would 
be  a  trouble  to  you;  now,  since  fortune  offers  this  chance, 
we  must  seize  it— that  is,  those  of  us  who  feel  it  a  duty  to 
go  " ;  and  she  looked  meaningly  at  Merry  and  her  daughter. 


"HE   EITHER   FEARS   HIS  FATE   TOO   MUCH."        £01 

"  Nonsense !  You  are  hostages  for  Vincent,  in  case  he  is 
captured,  as  long  as  you  are  here ;  I  can't  let  you  go — under 
the  laws  of  war — I  can  not.  Can  I,  Vincent  ? " 

Vincent  looked  at  Jack  solemnly,  but  made  no  answer. 

u  Mamma  is  quite  right.  While  you  are  with  us  no  harm 
can  come  to  Vincent;  for,  if  he  should  be  taken  prisoner,  we 
can  threaten  the  Yankee  Government  to  put  you  to  torture 
unless  he  is  well  treated,"  Rosa  interrupted,  reassuringly. 

"  We  should  be  far  more  aid  and  comfort  to  Vincent  if 
we  were  in  the  North  than  we  could  be  here.  If  he  were 
taken  prisoner  and  wounded,  we  could  return  him  the  kind- 
ness we  have  received  here.  In  any  event,  we  could  lessen 
the  hardships  of  prison  life." 

"  Oh,  you  would  have  to  minister  to  a  mind  diseased,  if 
such  a  fate  should  befall  me !  "  Vincent  cried,  sentimentally ; 
with  a  glance  into  Olympia's  eyes,  which  met  his  at  the  mo- 
ment. Both  blushed ;  and  Olympia,  to  relieve  the  embarrass- 
ment, said,  decisively: 

"Mamma  is  right.  Jack  must  have  his  family  on  the 
ground,  to  watch  over  his  interests.  I  am  sure  there  is 
some  underhand  work  responsible  for  this  long  delay  in  his 
case,  for  I  saw  by  The  Whig,  last  week,  that  exchanges  of 
prisoners  had  been  made ;  I  think  that — "  But,  suddenly  re- 
membering the  presence  of  Kate  and  Wesley,  she  did  not 
finish  the  thought,  which  implied  a  belief  in  the  intervention 
of  the  elder  Boone — to  Jack's  detriment.  In  the  end — when 
the  two  mothers  talked  the  matter  over — Mrs.  Sprague  car- 
ried the  point.  She  convinced  Mrs..  Atterbury  that  there 
was  danger  to  Jack  in  a  longer  stay  of  his  family  in  the  Con- 
federate lines.  Vague  reports  had  already  reached  them 
from  Acredale  of  the  suspicious  hostility  in  which  the  Demo- 
crats were  held  after  Bull  Run.  The  Northern  papers,  which 
came  through  the  lines  quite  regularly,  left  no  doubt  that 
Democratic  leanings  were  universally  interpreted  in  the 
North  as  evidences  of  rebel  sympathy,  if  not  partisanship. 
Such  a  charge,  as  things  stood,  would  be  fatal  to  Jack;  and 
the  mother's  duty  was  plain.  She  had  friends  in  Washing- 
ton, once  powerful,  who  could  stand  between  her  son  and 


202  THE   IRON   GAME. 

calumny — perhaps  more  serious  danger— when  she  was  pres- 
ent in  person  to  explain  his  conduct.  If  she  could  not  at 
once  secure  his  exchange,  she  could  save  him  from  compro- 
mise in  the  present  inflammable  and  capricious  state  of  the 
public  mind.  Understanding  this,  and  the  enmity  of  Boone, 
Mrs.  Atterbury  not  only  made  no  further  objection,  but  ac- 
knowledged the  urgent  necessity  of  the  mother's  presence  in 
the  North.  The  idle  life  of  Eosedale  had  grown  unbearably 
irksome  to  Merry,  too. 

"  I  feel  as  if  I  were  a  rebel,"  she  confided  to  Mrs.  Sprague 
in  the  evening  talks,  when  the  piano  sounded  and  the  young 
people  were  making  the  hours  pass  in  gayety.  "  It's  a  sin  for 
us  to  laugh  and  be  contented  here,  when  our  friends  are  bear- 
ing the  burdens  of  war.  I  shall  be  ashamed  to  show  my  face 
in  Acredale.  Oh,  I  wish  I  could  carry  a  musket !  " 

"You  might  carry  a  canteen,  my  dear.  I  believe  the 
regiments  take  out  vivandidres — there  would  be  an  outlet 
for  your  warlike  emotions,"  Mrs.  Sprague  said,  with  the 
purpose  of  cheering  the  unhappy  spinster. 

"  Ah,  no ;  I  must  not  give  encouragement  to  that  dreadful 
Richard.  But  we  shall  go  now,  thank  Heaven,  and  it  will 
comfort  my  sisters  to  have  the  boy  back  on  Northern  soil, 
even  if  he  persists  in  being  a  soldier." 

She  had  a  long  talk  with  Jack  on  the  subject.  That  tem- 
pest-tossed knight  convinced  her  that  it  would  only  incite 
the  boy  to  more  unruliness  to  persist  in  his  quitting  the  army, 
or  to  urge  him  northward  now,  before  an  exchange  was 
properly  arranged.  Indeed,  he  was  a  prisoner — taken  in 
battle — though  his  name  did  not  appear  on  the  lists.  So 
Vincent's  sudden  going  was  welcomed  as  a  stroke  of  good 
fortune.  The  Atterburys,  understanding  the  natural  feelings 
of  the  family,  made  only  perfunctory  opposition.  Olympia 
and  Kate  were  to  remain  until  their  brothers'  fates  were  de- 
cided. Vincent,  who  had  been  for  weeks  wildly  impatient 
to  return  to  the  field,  was  divided  in  mind  now — by  joy  and 
despair.  He  had  put  off  and  put  off  a  last  appeal  to  Olym- 
pia. He  had  not  had  an  opportunity,  or  rather  had  too  much 
opportunity — and  had,  from  day  to  day,  deferred  the  longed- 


"HE  EITHER  FEARS  HIS  FATE  TOO   MUCH."        203 

for  yet  dreaded  decision.  When  ready  to  speak,  prudence 
whispered  that  it  would  be  better  to  leave  the  question  open 
until  it  should  come  up  of  itself.  She  would  learn  every  day 
to  know  him  better  in  his  own  home,  where  all  the  artificiali- 
ties of  life  are  stripped  from  a  man,  by  the  concurrent  abra- 
sions of  family  love  and  domestic  devoirs.  She  would  see 
that,  however  unworthy  of  her  love  he  might  have  seemed 
in  the  old  boyish  days  at  Acredale,  now  he  could  be  a  man 
when  manliness  was  demanded ;  that  he  could  be  patient,  reti- 
cent, humble  in  the  trials  her  caprice  or  coquetry  put  upon 
him.  She  had,  it  seemed  to  him,  deepened  and  broadened 
the  current  of  his  love  during  these  blissful  weeks  of  waiting. 
Her  very  reserve,  under  the  new  conditions  surrounding  her, 
had  made  more  luminous  the  beauty  of  her  heart  and  mind. 
She  was  no  longer  the  airy,  capricious  Olympia  of  his  college 
days.  The  pensive  gravity  of  misfortune  and  premature  re- 
sponsibility had  ennobled  and  made  more  tangible  the  traits 
that  had  won  him  in  her  Northern  home.  She  had  not 
avoided  him  during  these  weeks  of  purifying  probation,  as  he 
feared  she  would.  Of  late — Jack's  state  being  secure — she 
had  revived  much  of  the  old  vivacity,  and  deepened  the  thrall 
that  held  him. 

But  now  the  merry-making  season  which  had  opened  be- 
fore them  was  at  an  end.  The  madrigals  that  welled  up  in 
his  soft  heart  must  sing  themselves  in  the  silence  of  the  night, 
in  the  camp  yonder,  with  no  ears  to  comprehend,  no  heart  to 
melt  to  them.  He  should  probably  not  get  a  chance  to  see  her 
again  during  the  conflict.  How  long  ?  Perhaps  a  year — for 
it  would  take  two  campaigns,  as  the  rebel  leaders  reckoned, 
to  convince  the  North  that  the  Confederacy  was  unconquer- 
able !  And  what  might  not  happen  during  those  momentous 
•months  ?  Perhaps  Jack's  death  ? — and  then  they  would  be 
divided  as  by  fire — or,  if  the  conflict  resulted  victoriously  for 
the  South,  as  he  knew  it  must,  he  foresaw  that  the  soldier  of 
the  conquering  army  would  not  be  received  as  a  wooer  in  the 
family  of  the  defeated.  He  knew  her  so  well !  She  would, 
in  the  very  pride  of  outraged  patriotism,  give  her  love  to  one 
of  the  defeated,  rather  than  add  to  the  triumphs  of  the  hated 


204  THE   IRON    GAME. 

South.  She  had  strong  convictions  on  the  war.  She  hated 
slavery,  and  she  could  not  be  made  to  see  that  the  South  was 
warring  for  liberty,  not  to  sustain  slavery.  These  thoughts 
ran  through  Vincent's  troubled  mind  as  his  mother  directed 
the  preparations  for  the  fete  of  the  President. 

Kate,  Jack,  and  Dick  were  pressed  into  the  service  of 
decorating  the  apartments.  Olympia  left  the  room  with  her 
mother,  to  advise  and  assist  in  making  ready  for  the  journey 
North;  and  Vincent,  aiding  his  mother  with  a  sadly  divided 
mind,  kept  furtive  watch  on  the  hallway.  She  held  him 
hours  in  suspense,  he  thought,  almost  wrathfully,  of  deliber- 
ate purpose;  for  she  must  have  read  in  his  eyes  that  he 
wanted  to  talk  with  her.  The  artless  Dick  finally  gave  him 
a  chance. 

"I  say,  Vint,  get  Polly  to  show  you  the  roses  needed  for 
the  tables ;  I'll  be  with  you  by-and-by  to  cut  the  ferns.  Do 
you  think  you  could  make  yourself  of  that  muc\  use  ? 
You're  not  worth  a  straw  here." 

"  Send  for  Miss  Polly  and  I'll  do  my  best,"  Vincent  said, 
with  a  gulp,  to  conceal  his  joy.  She  appeared  presently; 
and,  as  they  were  passing  out  of  the  door,  Rosa  cried,  im- 
periously : 

"  Oh,  yes,  Vint,  we  need  ever  so  much  honeysuckle ;  you 
know  where  it  hangs  thickest — in  the  Owl's  Glen.  Olympia 
will  like  to  see  that — the  haunt  of  her  favorite  bird  " ;  and 
the  busy  little  maid  laughed  cheerily,  like  a  disordered  god- 
dess, intoxicated  by  the  exhaling  odors  of.  the  floral  chaos. 

"  En  route  for  Roumelia,  then,"  Vincent  cried  in  military 
cadence,  as  the  florists  set  out.  Roumelia  was  the  name 
Jack  had  given  the  rose-lands  near  the  stream,  in  fanciful 
allusion  to  the  Turkish  province  of  flowers.  Halting  at  the 
gardener's  cottage,  Vincent  procured  an  immense  pair  of 
shears,  like  a  double  rapier  in  size,  and,  bidding  the  man 
follow  to  gather  the  blossoms,  he  pushed  into  the  blooming 
vineyard. 

"  With  such  an  instrument  I  should  say  it  was  the  gold- 
en fleece  you  were  after,"  Olympia  cried,  as  he  reached  her 
side,  "though  I  believe  Jason  didn't  do  the  shearing." 


"HE   EITHER  FEARS   HIS  FATE   TOO   MUCH."         £05 

"  No,  the  powers  of  air  worked  for  him,  and  he  found  his 
quest  ready  to  his  hand." 

"  I'm  sure  the  powers  of  air  have  not  denied  you ;  look 
at  those  radiant  ranks  of  blossoms  bending  to  be  gath- 
ered." 

"  Ah,  yes,  beauty  stoops  sometimes  to  welcome  the  trem- 
bling hand  of  the  suitor." 

"  Your  hand  is  rather  unsteady — infirm  of  purpose  ;  give 
me  the  blades."  She  took  them  laughingly,  and  snipped  the 
green  stems  rapidly  and  dexterously. 

"  Yes,  I  believe  men  are  infirm  in  moral  purposes,  as  com- 
pared to  women.  It  is  only  in  the  brutalities  of  life  that 
men  are  decisive." 

"  Do  you  mean  that  women  approach  the  trials  of  life 
less  thinkingly  and  act  less  rationally  than  men  ? " 

"  Yes  and  no.  The  daring  too  much  is  always  before  a 
man;  the  daring  too  little  is,  I  think,  the  only  trouble  a 
woman  has." 

"  Oh,  that  is  a  large  question,  involving  too  much  mental 
strain  in  a  garden  of  roses,  where  the  senses  sleep  and  one 
is  content  with  mere  breath  and  the  faintest  motion." 

"  There  are  enough  roses ;  now  we  will  go  for  the  wild 
smilax  and  honeysuckle ;  perhaps  the  cool  air  of  the  pools 
will  restore  your  mental  activities." 

They  left  the  dismembered  roses  scattered  in  fragrant 
heaps  on  the  shaded  path  and  walked  slowly  toward  the 
dense  hedge. 

"What  a  perfect  fortress  this  green  wall  makes  of  the 
gardens ! "  Olympia  said,  glancing  around  the  great  square, 
where  the  solid  green  wall  could  be  seen  running  up  much 
higher  than  their  heads. 

"  Yes,  as  I  said  the  other  day,  it  would  take  hard  work 
for  an  invading  force  to  get  at  the  house  unless  traitors  with- 
in gave  up  the  gates.  This  one,"  he  added,  unlocking  a 
massive  oak  door,  crossed  with  thick  planks  and  studded 
with  iron  bolts,  "  alone  admits  from  the  creek  and  swamp. 
It  is  locked  all  the  time ;  no  one  has  the  key  except  the  gar- 
dener, who  delivers  it  to  mamma  every  night." 


206  THE   IRON   GAME. 

"  A  feudal  demesne ;  it  takes  one  back  to  the  so-called 
days  of  chivalry." 

"  Why  do  you  say  '  so-called '  ?  To  me  they  are  the  de- 
light of  the  past — when  men  went  to  battle  for  the  smile  of 
the  women  they  loved,  when  knights  rode  the  world  over 
in  search  of  adventure,  and  my  lady,  in  her  donjon,  listened 
with  pleasure  to  the  lover's  roundelay.  Ah,  it  was  a  perfect 
life,  an  enchanting  time.  We  are  living  in  a  coarse,  brutal 
age ;  chivalry  was  the  creed  of  civilization,  the  knights  the 
priesthood  of  the  higher  life." 

"There's  the  Southerner  through  and  through  in  that 
sentimentality.  To  me  chivalry  means  all  that  is  narrow, 
cruel,  and  rapacious  in  man.  The  philandering  knights 
were  sensual  boobies,  the  simpering  dames  soulless  wan- 
tons. Life  meant  simply  the  rule  of  the  strong,  the  slaughter 
of  the  weak.  Servitude  was  its  law  and  robbery  its  methods. 
Have  you  ever  traveled  in  out-of-the-way  places  in  Ger- 
many, Austria,  or  Italy  ? " 

"  No,  I've  never  been  abroad." 

"  You  would  know  better  what  I  mean  if  you  had  seen  the 
monstrous  relics  of  the  age  you  admire.  The  few  ruled  the 
many ;  the  knights  were  simply  a  brotherhood  of  blood  and 
rapine;  men  were  slaves,  women  were  worse.  The  bravest 
were  as  unlettered  as  your  body-servant,  the  most  beautiful 
dames  as  termagant  as  Penelope  the  cook.  At  the  tabl<j 
men  and  women  ate  from  a  common  dish,  without  forks 
or  spoons.  Men  guzzled  gallons  of  un fermented  wine.  A 
bath  was  unknown.  Cleanliness  was  as  unpracticed  as 
Islamism  in  New  York.  Ugh !  anything  but  chivalry  for 
me." 

"  But  surely  the  great  lords  were  not  what  you  represent. 
They  were  gentle  born,  gentle  bred.  They  could  not  be  rob- 
bers; they  lived  from  great  estates." 

"  They  were  the  '  Knights  of  St.  Nicholas,'  which,  in  the 
slang  of  the  middle  ages,  meant  what  they  call  in  the  West 
road  agents;  indeed,  plain  highwaymen  they  were  called  in 
England  in  Bacon's  day." 

Vincent  bent  over  discomfited,  and  held  the  little  shallop 


"HE   EITHER  FEARS   HIS   FATE   TOO   MUCH."         207 

until  Olympia  was  seated,  and  then  pushed  off  into  the 
murky  stream. 

"  Do  you  see  those  streamers  of  loveliness  waving  wel- 
come to  you,  fair  damsel — Nature  knows  its  kind  ? " 

"  That's  one  word  for  me  and  one  for  yourself,"  she  cried, 
seizing  the  dainty  pink  sprays  that  now  trailed  over  her  head 
and  shoulders  as  the  boat  glided  along  the  fringe  of  bushes 
supporting  the  clinging  vines. 

"Oh,  no,  Olympia;  I  can't  speak  even  one  word  for  my- 
self. I  have  been  trembling  to  do  it  this  six  weeks,  but  your 
eye  had  none  of  the  invitation  these  starry  blossoms  offer 
us.  I  am  going  to  say  now,  Olympia,  what  I  have  to  say — 
f 01-  after  to-day  there  will  be  no  chance ;  what  has  been  on 
my  mind  you  have  long  known.  You  know  that  I  love 
you ;  how  much  I  love  you,  how  impossible  it  is  to  think  of 
life  without  you,  I  dare  not  venture  to  say  to  you,  for  you 
distrust  our  Southern  exaggeration.  But  I  do  love  you;  ah, 
my  God !  all  the  world  else — my  mother,  my  sister,  my  duty 
seem  nothing  compared  to  the  one  passionate  hope  in  my 
breast.  Do  you  believe  me,  Olympia — do  you  doubt  me  ? " 

"  Far  from  it,  Vincent — dear  Vincent— no — no— sit  where 
you  are  and  listen  to  me — "  She  was  deeply  moved,  and  the 
lover  in  his  heart  cursed  the  luckless  veils  of  blossom  that 
she  apparently,  without  design,  drew  before  her  face.  "  I  do 
believe  all  you  say ;  I  knew  it  before  you  said  it.  But  you 
remember  we  went  over  this  very  same  ground  before. 
Since  then,  it  is  true,  you  have  been  the  means  of  saving  us 
much  misery;  how  much  I  hardly  dare  think  of  when  I  look 
bock  to  that  dreadful  day,  when  mamma  lay  in  the  fever  of 
coming  disease  and  the  hopelessness  of  despair.  All  I  can 
say,  dear,  dear  Vincent,  is  what  I  said  before.  Wait  until 
thine  and  mine  are  no  longer  at  war.  Wait  until  one  flag 
covers  us—" 

"  But  that  can  never  be  ! " 

"  Wait  !    I  have  faith  that  it  will  be  ! " 

"If  one  flag  should  cover  us — my  flag— would  you — 
would  you —  ? " 

"  Ah,  Vincent  !  don't  ask  me ;  don't  force  me  to  say  some- 
14 


208  THE   IRON   GAME. 

thing  that  will  make  you  unhappy,  since  I  don't  know  my 
own  mind  well  enough  yet  to  answer  as  you  wish  me  to  an- 
swer— " 

"  But  you  can  tell  me  now  whether  you  love  me,  or,  at 
least,  whether  there  is  any  one  you  love  more  ? " 

"  I  don't  think  I  love  you.  I  know,  however,  that  I  think 
no  more  of  any  one  else  than  I  think  of  you ;  pray,  let  that 
suffice." 

"  But  how  cruel  that  is,  Olympia  !  It  is  as  much  as  to 
say  that  you  won't  wait  and  see  whether  you  may  meet  some 
one  that  you  can  be  surer  of  than  you  are  of  me  ? " 

"  I  must  distress  you  whatever  I  say,  Vincent !  Frankly, 
I  don't  think  you  can  decide  just  now  whether  your  heart 
is  really  engaged.  I  think  you  do  not  know  me  as  a  man 
should  know  the  woman  he  makes  his  wife.  I  am  certain  I 
do  not  know  you.  If  you  had  been  born  and  bred  in  the 
North,  I  should  have  no  difficulty  in  deciding;  but  your 
ways  are  so  different  here:  women  are  accorded  so  much 
before  marriage,  and  made  so  little  of  a  man's  life  after  mar- 
riage, that  I  shrink  from  a  promise  which,  if  lightly  or  in- 
considerately given,  would  bring  the  last  misery  a  woman 
can  confront." 

"  What,  Olympia  !  you  think  Southern  men  do  not  hold 
marriage  to  be  sacred  ? " 

"  I  think  that  the  Southern  man  has  a  good  deal  of  the 
knight  you  spoke  of  in  him,  and,  like  the  Frenchman,  mar- 
ries inconsiderately,  and  does  penance  in  infidelity,  at  least 
to  the  form,  if  not  the  fact,  of  the  relation." 

"  O  Olympia  !  where  do  you  get  such  repulsive  ideas  of 
us ;  who  has  been  traducing  us  to  you  ? " 

"  I  judge  from  the  Southern  men  I  have  seen  North ;  par- 
don me,  Vincent,  I  do  not  see  how  it  can  be  otherwise  in  a 
society  based  upon  human  servitude.  To  live  on  the  labors 
of  a  helot  people  blunts  the  finer  sensibilities  of  men  and 
women  alike ;  when  you  can  look  unshrinkingly  at  the  sep- 
aration of  husband  and  wife  on  the  auction-block,  when  you 
can  see  innocent  children  taken  from  their  mothers  and  sold 
into  eternal  separation,  I  think  it  is  not  unnatural  in  me  to 


"HE   EITHER   FEARS   HIS  FATE   TOO   MUCH."         209 

fear  that  a  woman  with  my  convictions  would  not  be  happy 
mated  with  a  Southerner.  All  this  is  cruel,  I  fear  you  will 
think,  but  it  would  be  crueller  for  me  to  encourage  a  love 
that,  under  present  circumstances,  would  bring  misery  to 
both  of  us." 

"  You  are  an  abolitionist  ? " 

"Yes;  every  right-thinking  person  in  the  North  is  an 
abolitionist  to  this  extent ;  we  want  the  South  to  take  the 
remedy  into  its  own  hands,  to  free  its  slaves  voluntarily; 
the  radical  abolitionists  prefer  a  violent  means.  That  I  do 
not  seek  or  did  not ;  but  now,  Vincent,  it  is  bound  to 
come." 

"  And,  if  it  should  come,  what  would  you  answer  to  my 
question  ? " 

"  Here  is  a  white  rose :  I  picked  it  with  my  hand,  and,  you 
see,  a  drop  of  my  blood  is  on  it ;  when  you  can  give  me  a 
rose  with  a  drop  of  your  blood  on  it  as  free  from  taint  as  the 
stain  mine  makes,  I  shall  have  an  answer  that  will  not  be 
unworthy  your  waiting  for  !  " 

"Unworthy!  I  don't  understand  you.  Surely,  you  don't 
think  me  a  profligate  ? " 

"  When  the  time  comes  that  no  human  being  acknowl- 
edges your  ownership,  perhaps  you  may  receive  a  voluntary 
bond-maid,  bound  to  you  by  stronger  ties  than  the  chattel  of 
the  slave." 

"  But  you  love  me,  then,  Olympia  ? " 

"  I  can  not  love  where  I  do  not  reverence." 

"  But  it  is  not  my  faiilt  that  slaves  are  my  inheritance  ! " 

"  It  will  be  your  fault  if  they  are  your  support  when  you 
are  your  own  master." 

"  You  love  an  idea  better  than  you  love  a  man  who  would 
die  for  you  ! " 

"  I  love  manliness  and  the  sense  of  right,  which  is  called 
duty,  better  than  I  love  a  man  who  is  blind  to  the  first 
impulse  of  real  manhood — " 

"  Would  you  ask  a  Jew  to  give  up  his  synagogue  to  gain 
your  hand  ? " 

"  The  synagogue  is  the  temple  of  a  creed  as  divine  as  my 


210  THE   IRON   GAME. 

own,  and  the  faith  of  the  man  I  loved  would  never  swerve 
me  in  accepting  or  refusing  him." 

"  We  of  the  South  believe  slavery  a  divine  institution — 
that  is,  first  established  by  the  fathers  ! " 

"The  tribes  in  the  Fiji  Islands  believe  man-eating  an 
ordinance  of  the  gods  !  " 

"Well,  this  sort  of  discussion  leads  to  nothing,"  Vin- 
cent said,  ruefully.  "  The  world  is  well  lost  for  the  woman 
one  loves,  when  I  come  to  you  shorn  of  my  world  !  " 

"  Ah !  then,  Vincent,  you  will  find  another  ! " 

He  drew  her  hand  from  the  clinging  vines  and  kissed  it. 

"  I  am  very  happy.  I  shall  lose  my  world  with  a  very 
light  heart." 

"The  world  is  a  very  tough  brier;  we  sometimes  bring 
it  closer,  when  its  thorns  prick  us  more  painfully  in  the 
struggles  to  cast  it  off." 

"  Then  I'll  cut  the  brambles,  and  not  risk  tearing  my 
flesh  !" 

"  That's  the  soldier's  way — the  heroic  way;  but  wait  for 
the  future;  I  am  young  and  you  are  not  old." 

Vincent's  gayety  when  they  returned  to  the  drawing- 
room  attracted  the  observant  Dick,  and  he  slyly  whispered 
to  the  warrior,  "  Been  practicing  the  Roman  strategy  witli 
the  Sabines  ? " 

"No,  I've  been  at  the  Temple  of  Minerva  and  taken  a 
pledge  to  hold  my  tongue." 

"  Ah  !  the  goddess  of  the  owls ;  but,  as  they  see  light  only 
in  darkness,  I  fear  you  groped  in  blackness." 

The  whole  household  were  to  meet  President  Davis  and 
his  party  in  Williamsburg,  assist  at  the  review,  and  get 
back  with  the  distinguished  guests  in  time  for  a  state  din- 
ner. Merry  and  Mrs.  Sprague  were  reluctant  to  go,  but 
they  feared  a  refusal  would  be  misunderstood.  Poor  Merry 
was  very  tearful  and  disconsolate  at  the  thought  of  leaving 
Dick,  but  she  strove  heroically  to  hide  her  grief  when  the 
cavalcade  set  out,  the  elder  ladies  driving,  the  young  people 
mounted.  The  ancient  capital  of  Virginia  was  aflame  with 
the  new  rebel  bunting.  President  Davis,  with  Generals  Lee 


"HE  EITHER   FEARS   HIS  FATE   TOO   MUCH."         211 

and  Magruder,  were  in  place  on  the  pretty  green  before  the 
old  colonial  college  edifice  when  the  Rosedale  people  came 
up.  Davis  saluted  Mrs.  Atterbury  with  cordial  urbanity; 
but,  as  the  troops  were  already  in  column,  there  was  only 
time  for  hasty  presentation  of  the  strangers. 

Jack  watched  the  rather  piebald  pageant  with  absorbed 
interest.  The  infantry  marched  wretchedly.  The  arms 
were  as  varied  as  the  uniforms,  and  the  artillery  seemed  a 
relic  of  Jackson's  time.  But  the  cavalry  was  superb.  Never 
had  he  seen  such  splendid  ranks,  such  noble  horses.  At 
sight  of  the  tall,  elegant  figure  of  the  President,  the  troops 
broke  into  the  peculiar  shrill  cheer  that  afterward  became  a 
sound  of  wonder,  almost  terror,  to  unaccustomed  Northern 
ears.  It  was  a  mingling  of  the  boyish  treble  of  college  cries 
and  the  menacing  shriek  of  the  wild-cat.  Jack  was  secretly 
very  much  delighted  with  the  review.  More  than  half  the 
rank  and  file  were  mere  boys ;  and  he  could  see  that  they 
were  unruly,  almost  to  point-blank  disregard  of  their  officers' 
commands,  or  the  prescriptions  of  the  manual.  It  would 
take  short  work  for  the  disciplined  hosts  the  new  Northern 
general  was  training,  to  sweep  such  chaff  from  the  field  of 
war.  Vincent  saw  something  of  this  in  his  comrade's  eye, 
and  a  good  deal  nettled  himself  by  the  slovenly  march  and 
humorous  abandon  of  the  men,  he  said  : 

"You  must  remember,  Jack,  our  army  is  made  up  of 
gentlemen's  sons ;  the  gentry  of  the  South  are  all  in  arms, 
and  we  can't  at  once  reduce  them  to  the  mere  machines  a 
more  heterogeneous  soldiery  can  be  made.  The  men  who 
won  Manassas  passed  in  review  a  day  or  two  before  the 
battle,  and  they  made  the  same  impression  upon  me — upon 
Beauregard  himself — that  I  see  these  men  have  made  on 
you.  Depend  upon  it,  in  a  fight  they  will  be  good  soldiers." 

"  Let  me  have  the  poor  comfort  of  underrating  my  ene- 
my, the  thing  above  all  others  that  a  wise  man  shuns  and  a 
fool  indulges." 

"  Oh,  on  that  theory  revile  them  if  you  like." 

"  No,  indeed ;  I'm  far  from  reviling  them.  The  cavalry 
is  magnificent.  I  don't  think  we  have  a  regiment  in  our 


212  THE   IRON   GAME. 

army  that  can  compare  with  that  brigade.  Who  commands 
it?" 

"Jeb  Stuart— the  Murat  of  the  South,"  Vincent  said, 
proudly.  "  I'm  going  to  tell  the  President  what  you  said  of 
the  brigade ;  you  know  he  is  passionately  fond  of  the  army, 
and  really  wanted  to  be  the  commander-in-chief,  when  they 
made  him  President  at  Montgomery." 

At  sunset  the  President  and  General  Lee  entered  the  car- 
riage with  Mrs.  Atterbury  and  Mrs.  Sprague,  Merry  driving 
in  a  phaeton  with  Kate,  who  didn't  enjoy  so  long  a  ride  on 
the  horse. 

"  I'm  glad  we've  got  such  important  hostages  as  yourself 
and  son,"  Davis  said  gallantly  to  Mrs.  Sprague,  as  the  car- 
riage passed  out  of  the  clamor  of  acclamation  the  crowd  set 
up.  "  I  knew  the  Senator,  your  husband,  intimately.  If  he 
had  lived,  I  doubt  whether  we  should  have  been  driven  out 
of  the  Union.  He  was,  in  my  mind,  one  of  the  most  prudent 
statesmen  that  came  from  the  North  to  Congress." 

"  He  certainly  never  would  have  consented  to  break  up 
the  Union,"  Mrs.  Sprague  said,  in  embarrassment. 

"Nor  should  I,  madam,  if  there  had  been  any  further 
security  in  it.  The  truth  is,  there  was  nothing  left  for  us 
but  to  go  out  or  be  kicked  out.  The  leaders  of  the  Abolition 
party  long  ago  proclaimed  that.  However,  war  settles  all 
such  problems.  When  it  is  settled  by  the  sword  we  shall  be 
satisfied." 

Mrs.  Atterbury  changed  the  conversation  by  asking  how 
Mrs.  Davis  liked  Richmond. 

"  Oh,  she  has  been  treated  royally  by  the  people  there. 
I  declare  Richmond  is  as  Southern  a  city  as  Charleston.  I 
have  been  agreeably  surprised  by  the  absolute  unanimity  of 
gentle  and  simple  in  the  cause.  My  wife  receives  a  clothes- 
basketful  of  letters  every  morning  from  the  mothers  of  the 
Confederacy  proffering  time,  money,  and  service  wherever 
she  can  suggest  anything  for  them  to  do.  I  propose  later 
on  establishing  an  order  something  like  the  Golden  Fleece, 
which  shall  confer  a  certain  social  precedence  upon  the 
wearers.  I  have  thousands  of  letters  on  the  subject,  and  as 


"HE   EITHER   FEARS   HIS  FATE   TOO   MUCH."         213 

the  society  of  the  South  is,  as  a  matter  of  fact,  a  society  of 
gentle-folk — for  the  most  part  lineally  descended  from  the 
nobility  of  older  countries— I  think  it  proper  and  right  that 
lineage  should  have  certain  acknowledged  advantages  in  the 
new  commonwealth.  But  I  propose  to  go  further,  and  in- 
stitute an  order  of  something  like  nobility  for  women — who 
have  thus  far  given  us  great  help  and  encouragement.  In- 
deed, there  are  many  in  the  Congress — a  dozen  Senators  I 
could  name — who  think  that  we  ought  to  make  our  regime 
entirely  different  from  the  North,  and  that  we  should  adopt 
a  monarchical  form — ' 

"  I'm  sure,  I  think  we  should,"  Mrs.  Atterbury  exclaimed, 
delightedly.  We  are  really  as  unlike  the  Northern  people 
as  the  French  or  the  Germans." 

"  The  strongest  argument  for  declaring  the  Confederacy 
an  empire  is  the  one  that  weighed  with  Napoleon  I.  We 
should  at  one  stroke  secure  the  alliance  of  all  the  mon- 
archies. They  have  never  looked  with  favor  on  the  experi- 
ment of  a  powerful  republic  over  here,  and  it  is  almost  cer- 
tain they  would  befriend  us  for  transforming  this  mighty 
infant  state  into  an  empire.  However,  that  is  for  future 
action.  Our  agents  abroad  have  sent  us  full  reports  on  the 
matter." 

"  I  doubt  the  wisdom  of  ever  hinting  such  a  thing,"  Gen- 
eral Lee  said,  gravely.  "  We  must  show  that  we  are  able  to 
act  independently  in  selecting  our  form  of  government.  I 
doubt  very  much  whether  the  masses  would  listen  favorably 
to  an  empire  established  by  foreign  aid." 

<k  Possibly,  general,  possibly.  As  I  said  before,  there  will 
be  time  enough  for  that  when,  like  Napoleon,  we  have  made 
our  armies  the  masters  of  this  continent.  Then,  with  bound- 
aries embracing  Mexico,  Canada,  and  the  Western  States — 
for  they  can  never  exist  independent  of  us— we  can  choose 
empire,  republic,  or  a  Venetian  oligarchy." 

As  they  came  in  sight  of  Rosedale,  Davis  stood  up  in  the 
carriage  to  get  a  better  view  of  the  landscape,  which  showed 
swift  alternations  of  dense  thickets  and  wood  and  rolling 
acres  of  rich  crops. 


214:  THE   IRON   GAME. 

"What  a  State  Virginia  is  !"  he  exclaimed  with  enthu- 
siasm. "  It  has  the  climate  and  soil  to  support  half  of  Eu- 
rope. Mother  of  Presidents  in  the  past,  it  will  he  the  gran- 
ary and  magazine  of  the  Confederacy  in  ten  years.  My 
own  State,  Mississippi,  is  rich  in  land,  but  the  climate  is  hard 
for  the  stranger.  It  enervates  the  European  at  first.  But 
we  are  an  agricultural  people,  or  rather  we 'give  our  energies 
to  our  staple,  cotton ;  that  is  to  be  the  chief  treasure  of  the 
Confederacy. " 

Dinner  was  ready  for  the  table  when  the  guests  came 
from  their  rooms.  Davis  excused  his  lack  of  ceremonial 
dress,  saying,  pleasantly : 

"  I  am  something  of  a  soldier,  you  know,  and  travel  with 
a  light  train.  Lee,  there,  has  the  advantage  of  me.  A  sol- 
dier's uniform  is  court  costume  the  world  over.1' 

"But  you  are  the  commander-in-chief,  Mr.  President. 
Don't  you  have  a  uniform  ? " 

"  No.  I  am  commander-in-chief  only  in  law.  Congress 
is  really  the  commander-in-chief.  The  man  that  assumes 
those  duties  can  attend  to  them  alone.  He  is,  of  course, 
subject  to  the  executive ;  but  only  in  general  plans,  rarely 
in  details." 

Davis  was  placed  at  Mrs.  Atterbury's  rijht,  Mrs.  Sprague 
at  her  left.  General  Lee  sat  at  Vincent's  right,  vis-ct-vis  to 
Jack,  who  was  lost  in  prodigious  admiration  of  the  Socratic- 
like  chieftain — Lee  was  as  yet  unknown  to  all  but  a  dis- 
criminating few  in  the  Confederacy.  He  was  as  tall  as 
Davis— fully  six  feet — but  more  rounded  and  symmetrical. 
He  spoke  with  great  gravity,  but  seemed  to  enjoy  the  jests 
that  the  young  people  found  opportunities  to  indulge  in, 
when  it  was  seen  that  the  President  devoted  his  talk  exclu- 
sively to  the  hostess  or  Mrs.  Sprague.  Davis  was  a  good 
talker,  and  charmed  the  company  with  reminiscences  of  old 
times  in  Congress. 

"  I  don't  remember  Lincoln  distinctly,"  he  said,  conclud- 
ing a  reminiscence,."  but  I  think  he's  the  man  that  used  to 
be  so  popular  in  the  House  cloak-room,  telling  stories  which 
were  said  to  be  extremely  droll." 


"HE  EITHER   FEARS   HIS  FATE   TOO   MUCH."        215 

"Mrs.  Lincoln  is  in  some  sort  kin  to  Mrs.  Davis,  isn't 
she  ? "  Mrs.  Atterbury  asked.  "  I  have  read  it  somewhere." 

"Very  distant.  Mrs.  Lincoln  is  of  the  Kentucky  Tods, 
and  they  were  in  some  way  kin  of  my  wife's  family,  the 
Howells.  Not  enough  to  put  on  mourning,  if  Mrs.  Lincoln 
should  become  a  widow." 

"  Is  it  true,  Mr.  President,  that  a  society  in  the  North  ha& 
offered  a  million  dollars  for  your  capture— abduction  ?  I 
heard  it  in  Williamsburg,  and  saw  an  allusion  to  it  in  The 
Examiner  the  other  day." 

"  Oh,  I'm  sure  I  can't  say.  If  the  offer  were  authenti- 
cated, I  should  be  tempted  to  go  and  get  the  reward  myself. 
With  a  million  dollars  I  could  do  a  good  deal  more  for  the 
cause  in  the  North  than  I  can  here,  making  brigadiers  and 
settling  questions  of  precedence  between  Cabinet  ministers, 
judges,  and  Senators." 

"  Mr.  President,  give  me  an  exchange  North,  and  I  will 
ascertain  the  facts  in  the  million-dollar  offer  and  write  you 
faithfully  how  to  set  about  getting  the  money,"  Jack  said, 
very  soberly,  from  his  end  of  the  table. 

"  Ah  !  the  Yankee  spoke  there— nothing  if  not  a  bar- 
gain. Sir,  you  deserve  your  clearance  papers,  but  I'm  too 
good  a  friend  of  Mi's.  Atterbury  and  her  daughter  to  bring 
about  the  loss  of  company  that  I  am  sure  must  be  agreeable. 
Then,  too,  there's  no  telling  the  miracles  of  conversion  that 
may  be  brought  about  by  such  ministers  as  Miss  Rosa  there." 

Rosa  blushed,  Jack  felt  foolish,  and  everybody  laughed 
except  Dick,  who  looked  unutterable  things  at  his  adored, 
and  boldly  entered  the  lists  against  the  great  personage  by 
asking,  in  a  quivering  treble  : 

"  Doesn't  the  Bible  say  that  the  wife  shall  cleave  to  the 
husband  ;  that  his  people  shall  be  her  people,  his  God  her 
God,  where  he  goes  she  goes  ? " 

"  It  is  so  said  in  the  Bible,  sir  ;  but  it  was  a  woman  that 
uttered  it,  and  she  was  in  love.  When  you  know  more  of 
the  sex,  you  will  understand  that  women  in  love  are  like 
poets  ;  they  say  much  that  they  don't  mean,  and  more  that 
they  don't  understand." 


216  THE   IRON   GAME. 

"  But,  Mr.  President,  what  the  one  woman  said  in  the 
Bible  all  women  practice.  You  never  knew  a  woman  that 
didn't  believe  her  husband's  beliefs,  hate  his  hates,  love  his 
loves." 

Davis  smiled,  and  his  eyes  twinkled  kindly  on  his  boyish 
inquisitor. 

"  I  know  only  one  woman.  That  is  as  much  as  a  man 
can  speak  for.  She  doesn't  hate  my  hates,  love  my  loves, 
or  enter  unprotestingly  into  all  my  ways.  Indeed,  I  may 
say  that,  being  a  peaceful  man,  I  wanted  to  remain  in  Wash- 
ington, for  I  believed  that  Seward  was  sincere  in  pleading 
for  a  compromise  ;  but  the  woman  I  speak  of  had  her  own 
opinion,  convinced  me  that  she  was  right,  and  I  came  to  my 
own  people." 

At  this  moment  there  was  a  diversion.  A  soldier,  booted 
and  spurred,  entered  the  room,  walked  to  the  head  of  the 
table,  and  bending  deferentially  to  the  President,  said  : 

"  I  am  ordered  to  deliver  this  message  wherever  you  may 
be  found."  He  handed  Davis  a  large  envelope  and  retreated 
respectfully  two  or  three  paces  backward.  Everybody  af- 
fected to  resume  conversation  as  the  President,  breaking  the 
seal,  said  : 

"  Pardon  me  a  moment,  madam."  But  he  had  no  sooner 
ran  over  the  lines  than  he  turned  to  the  courier,  crying,  in 
visible  discomfiture  : 

"  When  did  you  leave  the  war  office  ? " 

"At  five  o'clock,  sir." 

"  General,  we  must  return  instantly  to  Eichmond ;  a  hun- 
dred or  more  of  the  prisoners  have  broken  out  of  Libby  !  It 
is  reported  that  a  column  of  the  enemy  with  gunboats  have 
passed  up  the  James. — Madam,  this  is  one  of  the  exigencies 
of  a  time  of  war.  I  needn't  say  to  an  Atterbury  that  every- 
thing must  give  way  to  public  business  ! "  He  called  Lee 
aside,  spoke  rapidly  to  him,  and  the  latter,  beckoning  Vin- 
cent, left  the  room.  He  returned  in  ten  minutes,  announc- 
ing that  everything  was  in  readiness  to  set  out.  The  car- 
riage with  Mrs.  Sprague's  and  Merry's  small  luggage  was 
ready  when  the  cavalcade  set  out,  Davis  riding  with  them 


"HE   EITHER  FEARS   HIS   FATE   TOO   MUCH."        217 

and  the  cavalry  company  from  below,  divided  into  squad- 
rons before  and  behind  the  carriage.  It  was  eleven  o'clock 
as  the  last  dark  line  of  the  troop  disappeared.  Olympia  and 
Jack  stood  at  the  great  gate  in  mournful  silence.  The  swift- 
ness of  the  parting  had  lessened  the  pain,  but  their  minds 
were  full  of  the  sorrow  that  follows  the  inevitable.  Mrs. 
Sprague  had  herself  declined  to  postpone  the  ordeal  when 
Mrs.  Atterbury  pointed  out  the  untimely  hour.  No,  it  was 
better  to  suffer  this  slight  inconvenience  to  have  Vincent's 
protecting  presence  all  the  way  to  the  Union  lines  ;  and 
Jack,  acknowledging  this,  didn't  say  a  word  to  dissuade  her. 
Vincent's  last  act  was  to  call  Jack  to  his  room. 

"  I  wanted  to  tell  you,  Jack,  what  a  great  joy  it  has  been 
to  me — it  has  been  to  all  of  us — to  have  you  in  our  home  at 
this  trying  time.  I  can  not  tell  you  how  much  comfort  it 
has  been  to  me  now,  but  some  time  you  shall  know,"  Vin- 
cent stammered,  and  began  to  open  a  drawer  in  the  bureau. 
"  Here  is  something  I  want  you  to  accept  as  a  keepsake  from 
me."  He  drew  forth  a  pistol-case  and  opened  it.  "It  will 
be  a  melancholy  pleasure  for  me  to  feel,  in  the  dark  days  to 
come,  that  these  weapons  may  prove  your  friend  in  battle, 
where  I  must  be  your  enemy." 

"  By  George,  they're  beauties ! "  Jack  cried,  taking  the 
weapons  out. 

"Yes;  they  were  bought  last  year,  and  I  have  had  J.  S. 
cut  on  one,  and  V.  A.  on  the  other.  I  meant  them  for  your 
Christmas  last  year,  but  they  were  mislaid." 

"What  a  kind  fellow  you  are,  Vint!  I  don't  think  I 
ought  to  take  these." 

"Why  not  ?  I  have  others!  I  shall  feel  easier,  knowing 
that  you  have  them.  You  can  stow  them  about  you  easily, 
they  are  so  small." 

"But  it's  against  the  laws  of  war  for  a  prisoner  to  be 
armed." 

"  That's  just  the  reason  I  haven't  asked  you  to  take  them 
before.  You  can  leave  them  here  in  my  room  until  you  are 
exchanged,  and  then  you  can  carry  them  with  impunity." 

The  household  assembled  at  the  gate  leading  into  the 


218  THE   IRON   GAME. 

roadway  as  the  cavalcade  took  up  the  march.  There  were 
sad,  sobbing  farewells  spoken— the  kindly  night  covering  the 
tears,  and  the  loud  neighing  of  the  horses  drowning  the  sobs. 

The  Northern  group  remained  in  the  roadway,  straining 
their  eyes  to  catch  the  last  glimpse  of  the  wanderers  as  they 
disappeared  in  the  misty  foliage,  far  up  the  roadway. 

The  horizon  to  the  zenith  was  full  of  shimmering  star- 
points.  Olympia,  with  Jack,  turned  slowly  toward  the 
house,  silent  and  not  wholly  sad.  Dick,  in  a  low  treble, 
could  be  heard  just  behind  them,  quoting  melancholy  verses 
to  Rosa ;  and  the  brother  and  sister  returned  slowly  up  the 
dewy,  odorous  path.  At  the  porch  Rosa  exclaimed,  in  sur- 


"  I  wonder  where  Pizarro  is  ?  I  haven't  seen  him  while 
we  have  been  out.  It  can't  be  possible  he  has  followed 
Vincent !  What  shall  we  do  if  he  has  ? " 

"Make  Dick  take  his  place.  A  terrier  is  sometimes  as 
faithful  as  a  mastiff,"  Jack  said,  quickly. 

"  Oh !  Miss  Atterbury  wants  something  with  a  bite,  rather 
than  a  bark,  and  a  terrier  wouldn't  do,"  the  boy  answered. 

"  I  want  Pizarro.  I  shall  never  sleep  a  wink  all  night  if 
he  isn't  here,"  Rosa  said,  in  consternation ;  "  he  is  better  than 
a  regiment  of  soldiers,  for  he  won't  let  a  human  being  come 
near  the  house  after  the  doors  are  closed,  not  even  the  serv- 
ants." 

An  expedition,  calling  upon  Pizarro  in  many  keys,  set  out 
and  wandered  through  the  grounds,  back  to  the  quarters,  to 
the  gates  leading  to  the  rose-fields,  to  the  stable,  but  Pizarro 
was  not  to  be  found.  Lights  were  burning  in  the  hall  only 
when  the  four  re-entered,  and  with  a  very  grave  face  Rosa 
bade  the  rest  good-night. 


A  CATASTROPHE.  219 

CHAPTER  XX. 

A  CATASTROPHE. 

ROSEDALE  had  been  a  bed  of  thorns  to  Wesley  Boone 
since  his  recovery.  He  felt  that  he  was  an  incongruous  vis- 
itor among  the  rest,  as  a  hawk  might  feel  in  a  dove-cote.  He 
would  have  willingly  returned  to  Richmond — even  at  the 
risk  of  re-entering  the  prison — if  Kate  had  not  been  on  his 
hands.  The  life  of  the  place,  the  constant  necessity  of  mask- 
ing his  aversion  to  the  Spragues,  his  detestation  of  Dick,  the 
simple  merry-making  and  intimate  amenities  of  such  close 
quarters,  tasked  his  small  art  of  dissimulation  beyond  even 
the  most  practiced  powers.  The  garment  of  duplicity  was 
gossamer,  he  felt,  after  all,  in  such  atmosphere  of  loyalty 
and  trust  as  surrounded  him  at  Rosedale. 

He  knew  that  in  the  daily  attrition  and  conventional 
intimacies  of  the  table,  the  drawing-room,  or  the  prome- 
nade, the  cloak  covering  his  resentful  antipathy,  his  moral 
perversities,  his  thinly  veiled  impatience,  was  worn  to  such 
thin  shreds  that  eyes  keen  as  Jack's  must  see  and  know 
him  as  he  was.  What  was  hatefulest  and  most  unendura- 
ble of  all  was  the  bondage  of  truce  in  which  the  Atter- 
burys  held  him.  Wesley  was  no  coward,  and  he  ached 
to  meet  Jack  face  to  face,  arm  to  arm,  and  settle  with  that 
thoughtless  insubordinate  a  rankling  list  of  griefs  heaped 
up  in  moments  of  over  -  vivacious  frankness.  He  would 
make  Jack  smart  for  his  arrogance,  his  insolence,  his 
cursed  condescension  so  soon  as  they  were  back  among  the 
Caribees. 

But  meanwhile,  here,  daily  tortured  by  harmless  things 
— tortured  by  his  soul's  imaginings — Wesley  was  becoming 
a  burden  to  Kate,  who  saw  too  plainly  that  he  was  in  mis- 
ery, and  realized  that  it  was  largely  through  his  own  inher- 
ent weakness  and  insincerity.  He  had  all  the  coarse  fiber 
of  his  father  without  the  same  force  in  its  texture.  With 
merely  superficial  good  manners,  he  was  never  certain 
whether  the  punctilious  niceties  observed  toward  him  by 


220  THE   IRON   GAME. 

the  Spragues  and  Atterburys  were  not  a  species  of  studied 
satire.  Vincent,  who  had  never  shown  him  the  slightest 
consideration  in  Acredale,  treated  him  here  with  the  chival- 
rous decorum  that  the  code  of  the  South  demanded  in  those 
days  to  a  guest.  Wesley  ground  his  teeth  under  the  bur- 
den, not  quite  sure  whether  it  was  mockery  or  malevolence. 
He  watched  with  malignant  attentiveness  the  imperceptible 
change  of  tone  and  manner  that  marked  the  family's  treat- 
ment of  the  Spragues.  There  was  none  of  the  grave  cere- 
moniousness  he  resented  in  the  Atterburys'  behavior  with 
them. 

Jack  was  a  hobbledehoy  son  of  the  house,  almost  as 
much  as  Vincent.  Kate,  too,  was,  he  felt  certain,  treated 
with  a  reserve  not  shown  to  Mrs.  Sprague  or  Merry.  Brood- 
ing on  this,  brooding  on  the  unhappiness  of  his  own  dispo- 
sition, which  denied  him  the  privilege  of  enjoying  the  best 
at  the  moment,  indifferent  to  what  might  be  behind,  Wes- 
ley had  come  to  hate  the  Atterburys  for  the  burden  of  an 
obligation  that  he  could  never  lift.  He  hated  Mrs.  Atter- 
bury  for  her  high-bred,  easy  ignoring  of  all  conditions  save 
those  that  she  exacted.  He  hated  Eosa  for  her  gayety,  her 
absorption  in  the  young  scamp  Dick.  He  hated  Vincent 
because  he  seemed  to  think  there  was  no  one  in  the  North 
but  the  Spragues  worthy  a  moment's  consideration.  It  is  in 
hate  as  in  love — what  we  seek  we  find.  Every  innocent 
word  and  sign  that  passed  in  the  group,  in  which  he  did  not 
seek  to  make  himself  one,  Wesley  construed  as  a  gird  at 
him  or  his  family.  Constantly  on  the  watch  for  slights 
or  disparagements,  the  most  thoughtless  acts  of  the  two 
groups  were  taken  by  the  tormented  egotist  as  in  some 
sense  a  disparagement  to  his  own  good  repute  or  his  family 
standing. 

Nor  were  the  marked  affection  and  confidence  shown 
Kate  by  everybody  in  the  house  a  mitigation  of  this  malign 
fabric  of  humiliation.  Jack's  fondness  for  Kate  had  not 
escaped  the  observant  eyes  of  Dick,  who  had  confided  the 
secret  to  Eosa,  who  had  likewise  unraveled  it  to  mamma, 
and,  as  she  kept  nothing  from  Vincent,  the  Atterburys  had 


A  CATASTROPHE.  221 

that  sort  of  interest  in  Kate  that  intimate  spectators  always 
show  in  love  affairs,  where  there  are  no  clashing  interests 
involved.  It  was  a  moot  question,  however,  between  the 
three,  when,  after  weeks  of  observation,  Mrs.  Atterbury  de- 
clared that  Jack  was  not  in  love  with  Miss  Boone.  "He 
can't  be,"  she  declared.  "He  doesn't  seek  her  alone;  he 
doesn't  make  up  to  her  in  the  evening.  Half  the  time  when 
they  come  together  it  is  by  Dick's  arrangement.  He  seems 
to  be  in  love  with  Kate." 

"  How  absurd !  "  Eosa  cried,  with  a  laugh ;  "  a  boy  like 
him!  Why,  he  would  be  in  school,  if  there  were  no  war." 

"  Well,  Rosa,  I  fancy  that  Dick  hasn't  found  war  very 
much  different  from  school,  so  far.  He  seems  to  recite  a 
good  deal  to  the  mistress,  and  occupies  the  dunce's  block 
quite  regularly,"  Vincent  retorted,  with  a  provoking  signifi- 
cance that  set  mamma  in  a  brown  study  and  suspended  the 
comments  on  Kate's  and  Jack's  probable  sentiments. 

Mrs.  Sprague  and  Wesley  were  the  only  people  in  the 
house  who  had  no  suspicion  of  a  deeper  feeling  than  mere 
passing  goodfellowship  between  Jack  and  Kate.  Both  were 
blinded  by  the  same  confidence.  The  mother  could  never 
conceive  a  son  of  the  house  of  Sprague  making  such  a  breach 
on  the  family  traditions  as  a  union  with  a  Boone.  Wesley 
could  not  conceive  a  sister  of  his  giving  her  heart  to  the  son 
of  a  family  that  had  insolently  refused  to  concede  social 
equality  to  her  father.  Something  of  Wesley's  miserable 
inner  unrest  could  not  fail  to  be  visible  to  the  Atterburys, 
but  the  less  congenial  he  became  the  more  watchfully  con- 
siderate they  made  their  treatment  of  him.  He  was  their 
guest,  with  all  the  sacred  rights  and  immunities  that  quality- 
implies,  in  the  exaggerated  code  of  the  Southern  host.  Kate 
was  the  single  power  that  Wesley  had  bent  his  headstrong 
will  before,  ever  since  he  was  a  boy.  His  father  he  obeyed, 
while  in  his  presence,  trusting  to  wheedling  to  make  his 
peace  in  the  event  of  disobedience.  But  Kate  he  couldn't 
wheedle. 

She  was  relentless  in  her  scorn  for  his  meannesses  and 
follies,  and,  though  he  did  not  always  heed  her  counsels,  he 


222  THE   IKON   GAME. 

proved  their  justness  by  finding  his  own  course  wrong. 
Kate,  however,  hesitated  about  remonstrating  with  him  on 
his  deepening  moodiness,  for  she  was  not  quite  sure  whether 
it  was  mad  jealousy  of  Dick's  favor  in  Rosa's  eyes,  or  a  secret 
purpose  to  attempt  to  fly  from  the  gentle  bondage  of  Rose- 
dale.  Wesley  with  Rosa  it  was  remarked  by  Kate,  was,  or 
seemed  to  be,  his  better  self,  or  rather  better  than  the  self 
with  which  others  identified  him.  It  was,  however,  she 
feared,  more  to  torment  Dick,  than  because  she  found  Wes- 
ley to  her  liking,  that  the  little  maid  often  carried  the 
moody  captain  off  into  the  garden,  pretending  to  teach  him 
the  varied  flora  of  that  blooming  domain.  Dick  remarked 
these  excursions  with  growing  impatience,  and  visited  his 
anger  upon  Rosa  in  protests  so  pungent  and  woe-begone 
that  she  was  forced  to  own  to  him  that  she  only  pretended 
an  interest  in  the  captain,  so  that  he  might  not  think  he  was 
shut  out  of  the  confidence  of  the  circle. 

''  And  who  cares  if  he  does  think  he  is  shut  out,  I  should 
like  to  know  ?  He  is  a  sneak,  and  I  don't  like  to  have  you 
talking  with  him  alone,"  Dick  cries,  quite  in  the  tone  of  the 
Benedict  who  has  passed  the  marriage  portal  and  feels  safe 
to  make  his  will  known. 

"  I  should  like  to  know  what  right  you  have  to  order 
what  I  shall  or  shall  not  do  ? "  Rosa  protests,  half  angry, 
half  laughing.  "  Why,  you  talk  like  a  grown  man— like  a 
husband.  How  dare  you  ?  " 

Dick  pauses  confused,  and  looks  guiltily  about  at  this. 

"  Ah,  if  you  put  it  that  way  I  have  no  right  except  this : 
My  whole  heart  is  yours.  You  know  that.  You  may  not 
have  given  mo  all  yours."  (Protesting  shrug  from  Rosa's 
shoulders.)  "Well,  all  the  same;  if  my  heart  is  all  your 
own  you  have  a  duty  in  the  case.  You  ought  to  spare  your 
own  property  from  pain."  (Rosa  laughs  softly.)  "  Of  course 
you  are  right.  You  are  always  right.  How  could  such  a 
beautiful  being  be  wrong ! "  The  artful  rogue  slips  his  arm 
about  her  waist  at  this,  and,  after  a  feeble  struggle,  he  is  per- 
mitted to  hold  this  outwork  unprotested. 

"  And,  Rosa,  if  I  speak  like  a  man,  it  is  because  I  am  a 


A   CATASTROPHE.  223 

man.  Wasn't  it  the  part  of  maids  in  the  old  timas  to  in- 
spire the  arm  of  their  sweethearts ;  to  make  them  constant 
in  danger,  brave  in  battle,  and  patient  in  defeat  ?  Are  you 
less  than  any  of  the  damsels  we  read  of  in  chivalry  ?  Am  I 
not  a  man  when  I  look  in  your  dear  eyes  and  see  nothing 
worldlier  than  love,  nothing  earthlier  than  truth  there  ? " 

"  What  a  blarney  you  are !  I  must  really  get  Vint  to 
send  you  away,  or  he  will  have  a  Yankee  brother-in-law." 

"  And  the  Perleys  will  have  a  rebel  at  the  head  of  the 
house." 

Now,  this  silly  prattle  had  been  carried  on  in  the  arbor 
near  the  library,  and  Wesley,  sitting  under  the  curtain,  had 
heard  every  word  of  it.  Neither  the  words  nor  the  unmis- 
takable sounds  that  lips  meeting  lips  make,  which  followed, 
served  to  soothe  his  angry  discontent.  This  was  early  on 
the  great  Davis  gala  day,  and  thereafter  he  disappeared  from 
the  scene.  He  made  one  of  the  party  to  Williamsburg, 
and,  though  distraught  in  the  conversation,  was  keenly  alert 
to  all  he  saw. 

Rallied  upon  his  reticence,  he  had  snubbed  Kate  and 
turned  disdainfully  from  Jack's  polite  proffers  to  guide  him 
through  the  review.  He  had  studied  Davis  all  through  the 
manoeuvres  with  a  furtive,  fascinated  attention,  which  Mrs. 
Atterbury  remarked  with  complacency,  attributing  it  to  awe. 
At  the  dinner-table,  seated  between  Kate  and  Merry,  he  had 
never  taken  his  eye  from  the  chief  of  the  Confederacy. 
Twice  the  President,  courteously  addressing  him,  he  had 
blushed  guiltily  and  dropped  his  gaze.  Before  the  dinner 
was  half  over  he  pleaded  a  severe  headache,  and,  bidding 
his  hostess  good-night,  hurried  from  the  room.  The  wide 
hall  was  deserted;  the  moon  threw  broad  swaths  of  light 
on  the  cool  matting,  and  he  halted  for  an  instant,  breathing 
rapidly.  Something  lying  on  the  rug  at  the  door  moved 
languidly.  Wesley,  looking  carefully  about,  moved  swiftly 
to  the  spot  and  stopped.  Pizarro  raised  his  head,  whining 
amicably,  and,  as  Wesley  bent  over  to  pat  him,  wagged  his 
tail  with  a  spasmodic  thud  against  the  floor,  in  sign  of  good- 
fellowship. 

15 


22i  THE   IRON   GAME. 

"  Come,  Pizarro,  come  with  me,"  Wesley  said,  coaxingly. 
But  the  dog,  redoubling  the  tattoo  with,  his  -tail,  remained 
obstinately  at  his  post.  Wesley  stole  to  the  end  of  the  hall 
and  listened,  then,  hearing  the  busy  clamor  of  the  servants 
moving  from  the  kitchen  to  the  dining-room,  he  retraced  his 
steps  to  the  stairs,  bounded  lightly  up  and  in  three  minutes 
reappeared,  and,  keeping  his  eyes  on  the  half -closed  doors, 
slipped  softly  to  Pizarro.  The  dog  sniffed  excitedly,  and  as 
Wesley  took  a  thick  parcel  from  his  coat-pocket  the  beast 
leaped  up  and  attempted  to  seize  it. 

"Follow  me,  Pizarro,  and  you  shall  have  it."  He  held 
up  the  packet,  a  red,  glistening  slice  of  raw  beef.  The  dog 
whined  ecstatically  and  Wesley,  holding  a  morsel  of  it  just 
out  of  his  reach,  retreated  up  the  stairs.  Pizarro  bounded 
after  him  as  if  construing  the  by-play  into  a  challenge,  and 
frisking  in  all  sorts  of  fantastic  shapes  to  win  the  savory 
prize.  The  door  of  Wesley's  room  was  open,  and  as  the 
dog  came  abreast  of  it  he  flung  a  piece  into  the  apartment. 
Pizarro,  lowering  his  sniffing  nose,  looked  at  the  tempting 
bit  sidewise,  and  then  wagging  his  tail  in  modest  deprecation 
of  his  boldness,  made  a  start  inward.  It  was  swallowed  in 
an  instant,  and  then,  as  Wesley  entered,  the  door  was  closed. 
Pizarro,  by  the  humility  of  his  manner,  the  lowered  head 
and  sidelong  glance,  asked  pardon  for  intruding  upon  the 
privacy  of  a  guest,  but  argued  with  his  ears  and  by  short 
yelps,  in  extenuation,  that  such  a  feast  as  a  bit  of  meat — 
after  an  active  day,  when  the  servants  had  forgotten  to  feed 
him — no  dog  with  a  healthy  appetite  could  resist,  no  matter 
how  perfect  his  breeding.  He  was  ready  for  the  larger  ra- 
tion Wesley  held  in  his  hand. 

Wesley  held  the  temptation  in  his  hand  until  he  had 
lured  the  dog  into  a  large  closet  communicating  with  the 
bedroom  by  a  locked  door.  Once  in,  the  door  was  shut,  and 
the  young  man  sank  on  a  seat  in  a  thrill  of  grateful  relief. 

"That  danger's  over,"  he  muttered.  "Now  to  see  who  is 
in  the  upper  rooms. " 

Perfect  silence  on  the  upper  floor  ;  only  the  solemn 
shadows  of  the  night,  as  the  moon  rises  higher  and  higher, 


A   CATASTROPHE.  225 

and  the  plaintive  cries  of  the  night-birds  alone  betoken  life. 
Through  the  windows  the  white-jacketed  house-servants  are 
rushing  gayly  to  and  from  the  dining-room.  All  the  rooms 
are  dimly  lighted.  The  President's  apartment  is  fragrant 
with  blossoms,  and  the  lace  counterpane  turned  down.  Re- 
tracing his  steps,  Wesley  enters  Vincent's  room  on  the  cor- 
ridor with  his  own.  The  candle  is  burning  dimly  on  the 
mantel.  He  seems  to  know  his  whereabouts  very  well,  for 
he  makes  straight  for  a  bureau  between  the  bed  and  the  win- 
dow. He  takes  from  the  top  drawer  a  pistol-case,  which  he 
has  evidently  handled  before,  as  he  touches  the  spring  at 
once.  He  takes  out  one  pistol,  and,  rapidly  extracting  the 
loads,  puts  it  back.  He  has  taken  four  out  of  the  five  barrels 
of  the  second  when  a  sound  of  footsteps  in  the  hall  startles 
him.  He  has  barely  time  to  replace  the  weapons,  close  the 
case,  put  it  in  the  drawer  and  crawl  under  the  bed,  when 
Vincent  and  Jack  enter. 

His  suspense  and  terror  are  so  overmastering  that  he  can 
only  hear  an  occasional  word.  His  own  heart-beats  sound 
in  his  ears  like  the  thumping  of  a  paddle.  Is  Vincent  going 
to  bed  ?  Are  Jack  and  he  going  to  sit  and  smoke,  as  they 
often  do  ?  No,  relief  beyond  words,  they  are  going  out ! 
Perhaps  to  Jack's  room  ?  They  often  sit  there  until  very 
late,  and  then  Vincent  slips  in  stocking-feet  to  his  own  room. 
But  they  are  gone,  and  he  must  fly.  He  dares  not  return  to 
extract  the  last  charge.  But  one  ball  can't  do  much  hurt 
in  the  dark,  and,  if  his  plans  are  carried  out  with  care, 
there  will  be  no  chance  for  any  one  to  use  the  weapons 
on  the  rescuing  party,  even  if  he  were  disposed  to.  In  a 
moment  Wesley  is  back  in  his  room,  marking,  with  sur- 
prise,' that  there  is  no  sound  from  Jack's  or  Dick's  room. 
But  all  is  well.  He  is  in  his  own  room  and  secure  from 
surprise. 

He  sat  down  to  think.  He  must  keep  everything  in  mind. 
One  whippoorwill  cry  from  outside  would  mean  that  all  was 
well ;  two  that  he  must  hurry  to  the  rendezvous.  It  seemed 
like  a  dream.  Davis,  the  arch-rebel,  the  chief  architect  of 
the  Confederacy,  under  the  same  roof:  in  an  hour,  if  no  hitch 


226  THE   IRON   GAME. 

come,  the  traitor  would  be  bound  and  flying  in  trusty  Union 
hands.  And  when  they  got  North  ?— when  he,  Wesley 
Boone,  handed  over  to  the  authorities  in  Washington  this 
hateful  chief  of  a  hateful  cause,  what  fame  would  be  his  ! 
No  one  could  dispute  it.  He  had  informed  Butler's  agent; 
he  had  watched  day  and  night;  had  given  the  Unionists 
plans  of  the  grounds ;  was  now  periling  his  own  rescue  to 
bring  the  arch-traitor  to  his  doom.  Ah  !  what  in  all  his- 
tory would  compare  with  this  glorious  daring  ?  He  sat 
glowing  in  dreams  of  such  delicious,  roseate  delight,  that 
he  took  no  heed  of  time,  and  was  startled  when  he  heard 
Dick  and  Jack  bidding  each  other  good-night.  Then  in  a 
few  minutes  he  heard  Jack's  door  open  and  a  tap  at  Dick's 
door. 

"  Come  to  my  room.  I  want  to  show  you  a  present  I  got 
to-night."  Then  silence.  Wesley  had  no  watch.  The  rebels 
had  relieved  him  of  that  at  Bull  Run.  But  it  must  be  quite 
midnight.  He  opened  one  of  the  windows  softly.  Oh,  the 
glory  of  the  night,  harbinger  of  his  high  emprise,  his  death- 
less glory !  The  wondrous,  wondrous  stillness  of  the  scene 
— and  to  think  that  over  yonder,  in  the  dark  depths  of  the 
forest,  fifty,  perhaps  a  hundred,  men  were  waiting  for  him— 
for  him  ?  Yes,  the  mighty  arms  of  the  Union  were  about 
him  j  the  trump  of  a  fame,  such  as  no  song  had  ever  sung,  was 
poised  to  blow  to  the  world  his  daring.  Hark  !  Heavens, 
yes;  the  long>  tender  plaint  of  the  whippoorwill.  Ah  !  now, 
now  there  was  no  doubt.  In  swooning  delight  he  waits.  Good 
Heaven  !  What's  that  sound  ?  Angels  and  ministers  of 
grace,  the  dead  in  wailing  woe  over  the  deed  about  to  be 
done  ?  Ah  !  he  breathes. 

Pizarro  has  grown  tired  of  imprisonment  and  has  set  up 
an  expostulatory  wail,  facetiously  impatient  at  first,  but  now 
breaking  into  sharp  yelps.  This  will  never  do.  He  must 
stop  that  ear-splitting  outcry,  or  the  househould  will  be 
awakened.  That  sharp-eyed,  razor-tongued  young  devil, 
Dick,  is  just  across  the  hall.  Wesley  opens  the  closet  door, 
and  Pizarro  bounds  out,  licking  his  jailer's  hands  in  grateful 
acknowledgment.  He  frisks,  appealing  to  the  room  door, 


A   CATASTROPHE.  227 

inviting  the  further  favor  of  being  permitted  to  go  to  his 
post,  his  wagging  tail  explaining  how  necessary  it  is  that  a 
dog  intrusted  with  such  important  duties  as  the  guardian- 
ship of  the  household  can  not  suffer  the  casual  claims  of 
friendlessness  or  the  comity  of  surreptitious  feeding  to  lure 
him  into  infidelity.  The  tail  proving  ineffectual  in  argu- 
ment, Pizarro  supplemented  its  eloquence  by  sharp  admoni- 
tory yelps,  tempered  by  a  sharp  crescendo  whining,  of  which 
he  seemed  rather  proud  as  an  accomplishment. 

"  Damn  the  brute  !  He  will  ruin  everything.  I  must  kill 
him."  But  how  ?  He  had  no  weapon.  He  looked  about 
the  room  in  gasping  terror— the  dog  accepting  the  move  as  a 
sign  that  the  eloquence  of  the  tail  argument  had  proved 
overpowering,  supplemented  this  by  an  explosion  of  ecstatic 
yelps  of  a  deep,  bass  volume,  that  murdered  the  deep  silence 
of  the  night,  like  salvos  of  pistols.  The  curtains  to  the 
windows  were  held  in  place  by  stout  dimity  bands.  Whis- 
pering soothingly  to  the  dog,  Wesley  knotted  four  of  these 
together,  and,  making  as  if  to  open  the  door,  slipped  the 
bands  like  a  lasso  over  the  head  of  the  unsuspecting  brute. 
In  an  instant  his  howls  were  silenced.  The  dog,  with  pro- 
truding tongue  and  eyes — that  had  the  piteous  pleading  and 
reproach  of  the  human,  looked  up  at  him,  bloodshot  and  fail- 
ing. But  now  the  second  signal  must  be  near  !  He  may 
have  missed  it  in  the  infernal  howling  of  the  brute.  Yes, 
that  was  it.  He  looks  out  of  the  window ;  his  room  is  in 
view  of  the  covered  way  to  the  kitchen.  He  sees  moving 
figures ;  he  hears  voices.  They  are  there.  He  has  missed 
the  signal ;  he  must  hasten  to  them.  He  puts  out  the  lights 
and  opens  the  door  cautiously.  All  is  invitingly,  reassur- 
ingly still.  He  is  at  the  hall  door  in  a  minute,  in  another 
he  is  with  the  shadows  in  the  rear  of  the  house. 

"  Jones,  is  it  you  ?  " 

"Ah,  captain,  we  are  waiting  for  ropes  to  secure  the 
prize. " 

"  There  is  no  time  to  wait.  The  dog  has  made  such  a  noise 
that  I  didn't  hear  your  signal.  I  saw  you  from  my  window. 
Come,  we  must  not  lose  a  minute,  for  I  couldn't  fasten  the 


228  THE   IRON   GAME. 

brute  very  well.  Davis  is  here,  and  we  have  only  to  take 
him  from  his  room.  The  cavalry  went  about  eleven;  I 
heard  them  march  away  an  hour  ago." 

"  Now,  give  me  the  exact  situation  here,  that  there  may 
be  no  surprise.  How  many  men  are  we  likely  to  encounter 
in  the  event  of  a  fracas  ? " 

"  Counting  Davis  and  Lee,  four  in  the  house.  How  near 
the  orderlies  and  guards  are  you  know  better  than  I.  Besides 
Davis,  there's  Jack  Sprague,  young  Atterbury,  and  Dick— 
but  he  don't  count." 

"  No  !    Why  ? " 

"  He  is  not  over  his  wound,  and  besides  he's  but  a  boy. 
They  had  two  pistols  loaded,  but  I  managed  to  draw  all  the 
charges  except  one.  So  that  if  Jack  and  Atterbury  should 
come  to  the  rescue  they  could  do  no  damage." 

"  They  sleep  at  this  end  of  the  house  ? " 

"Yes,  and  our  work  is  at  the  other." 

"Well,  then,  in  that  case  I  will  get  ladders  I  saw  near 
the  carriage-house  and  put  them  up  to  Davis's  window  as  a 
means  of  escape  in  case  these  young  men  get  after  us  before 
we  finish  the  job.  Even  with  their  unloaded  pistols,  two 
full  grown  men  and  the  boy  could  make  trouble." 

He  called  Number  Two  and  gave  him  orders  to  place  a 
ladder  at  each  of  the  two  windows  of  Davis's  room,  and  to 
have  a  man  at  the  top  of  each — armed.  When  the  men  had 
hurried  away,  Jones  continued: 

"  Here's  a  pistol  for  you.  It  is  a  six-shooter  bull-dog,  and 
will  do  sure  work.  Now  move  on  to  the  stairway ;  others 
will  join  us  in  a  moment.  You're  sure  you  know  Davis's 
room  ?  It  would  be  mighty  awkward  to  poke  into  any  of 
the  others." 

"  Yes ;  everybody  in  the  house  was  taken  to  see  it.  It  is 
the  old  lady's  room,  occupied  by  mother  and  daughter,  gen- 
erally; but  given  up  to  the  President  for  the  night." 

They  are  in  the  hall,  stealing  softly  over  the  thick  mat- 
ting; they  are  in  the  broad  corridor — running  the  whole 
length  of  the  house — Jack's,  Olympia's,  Dick's,  and  Kate's 
rooms  all  behind  them—  south  ward.  Wesley,  with  Jones 


A   CATASTROPHE.  229 

touching  his  right  arm  aud  Number  Two  at  his  left,  is  mov- 
ing slowly,  silently  northward  to  the  left  of  the  stairs. 
°"  Great  God !    What  was  that  ? " 

A  sound  as  of  a  clattering  troop  of  cavalry,  the  neighing 
of  horses  in  the  grounds!  Wesley  halted,  trembling,  dis- 
mayed. 

"  That's  all  right,"  Jones  whispered.  "  I  ordered  the  sta- 
bles opened  so  that  the  horses  wouldn't  be  handy,  if  any  one 
should  happen  to  be  at  hand  who  felt  like  pursuing  us,  or 
going  for  the  cavalry." 

"  It  was  a  mistake ;  the  horses  will  arouse  the  house.  We 
must  hurry." 

In  a  moment  they  were  before  the  door  of  the  Davis  room. 
Wesley  raised  the  latch.  It  was  an  old-fashioned  fastening. 
Number  Two  was  directed  to  stand  at  the  threshold  while 
Wesley  and  Jones  secured  Davis. 

Now  they  are  in  the  room.  There  is  no  sound ;  but  from 
the  open  window,  looking  upon  the  carriage-road,  there  is  the 
tramping  of  horses,  drowning  all  sounds  in  the  room.  They 
are  nearly  to  the  large  canopied  bed  between  the  open  win- 
dows, when  Jones,  who  is  nearest,  discovers  a  startled  ap- 
parition half  rising  from  the  bed.  He  is  discovered  by  the 
figure  at  the  same  instant,  and  a  piercing  scream,  so  loud, 
prolonged,  and  ear-splitting  that  it  echoes  over  the  house, 
ends  the  wild  dream  of  the  marauders.  Wesley  reels  in 
panic.  But  Jones  is  an  old  campaigner.  If  he  can't  have 
victory,  there  must  be  no  recapture.  He  rushes  at  the 
white  figure,  and  snatches  —  Eosa,  limp,  nerveless,  and 
swooning  ! 

"See  who's  in  the  bed! — I'm  damned  if  you  haven't 
brought  us  to  the  wrong  room — see,  quick !  " 

But  there  was  no  necessity  for  seeing.  Mrs.  Atterbury 
uttered  a  stifled  cry :  <k  Help !  help !  murder !  " 

"  You,  Boone,  know  the  place ;  stand  by  me  and  I'll  see 
that  we  are  not  nabbed ;  but  you've  made  a  nice  mess  of  the 
affair. " 

But  the  comments  of  the  indignant  Jones  were  suddenly 
drowned  in  a  blood-curdling  sound  in  the  doorway :  the  sav- 


230  THE   IRON   GAME. 

ago,  suppressed  growl  of  a  dog,  and  the  responsive  impreca- 
tions of  Number  Two.  With  this  came  the  apparition  of 
two  figures,  at  sight  of  which  Jones  darted  to  the  window, 
-the  two  figures,  Jack  and  Dick,  following  to  his  right  and 
left. 

"  Save  your  powder,  whoever  you  are.  Fire  at  me,  and 
you  hit  the  young  woman.  I  don't  know  who  she  is,  but 
her  body  is  my  protection."  Saying  this,  Jones  coolly,  de- 
terminedly retreated  backward  to  the  window;  but  Dick, 
hardly  hearing,  and  certainly  not  comprehending,  had  come 
within  arm's  length  of  the  two,  somewhat  to  the  "left  of 
Jones. 

"Don't  fear,  Eosa,"  Dick  exclaimed,  between  his  teeth. 
"  I  can  see  you.  Ah,  ah  ! "  Then  four  reports,  that  sounded 
as  one,  split  the  air. 

Rosa  broke  from  the  thick  cloud  of  smoke  as  a  fifth  re- 
port rang  out,  and  a  scream  of  death  went  up  between  the 
bed  and  the  door  where  Jack  stood. 

At  the  instant  Dick  spoke,  Jack,  in  the  doorway,  heard  an 
exclamation  at  his  side.  He  half  turned,  and  as  he  did  so 
his  eye  caught  the  outlines  of  a  man,  with  a  shining  some- 
thing raised  in  the  air,  coming  toward  him  from  the  bedside. 
He  pointed  his  own  pistol  at  the  figure,  there  were  three  si- 
multaneous reports,  and  the  oncoming  figure  fell  with  a 
hoarse  cry  of  pain.  The  man  at  Jack's  back  now  cried : 

"  Get  through  the  window ;  they're  coming  through  the 
house ! " 

" It's  only  a  dog;  come  on." 

Then  there  was  a  sound  of  flying  feet  in  the  wide  passage. 

"  Are  you  hurt,  Rosa  ?  Tell  me— did  they  hit  you  ? 
Speak,  oh,  speak !  "  It  was  Dick's  voice,  in  a  convulsive  sob. 
Now,  the  boy  again,  that  danger  was  gone. 

Jack  meanwhile  had  struck  a  match,  and  soon  found  the 
candles  on  the  night-table  near  the  bed.  There  was,  at  the 
same  instant,  the  audible  sound  of  scurrying  along  the  pas- 
sage. He  ran  out.  The  man  assailed  by  the  dog  had  reached 
the  head  of  the  stairs.  As  Jack  got  half-way  down  the  cor- 
ridor, man  and  dog  disappeared  over  the  balustrade.  When 


THE   STORY   OF   THE   NIGIIT.  231- 

he  reached  the  hall  the  dog  was  inside,  growling  furiously, 
the  door  was  closed  and  the  man  gone.  Jack  opened  tho 
door.  Pizarro  bounded  out,  and  Jack  followed.  The  dog 
stopped  a  moment,  sniffed  the  ground,  and  made  for  tho 
kitchen.  A  loud  bark,  followed  by  a  ferocious  growl,  and  c, 
scream  of  mortal  pain  broke  on  the  air ;  then  a  pistol-shot 
and  a  long,  pitiful  gasp,  and  silence. 

"  Well,  that  dog  won't  trouble  any  one  now,"  Jack  heard, 
and  the  voice  made  his  hair  rise  into  bristling  quills. 

"  Barney !  "  he  cried;  u  Barney  Moore,  is  that  you  ? " 

<v  It  is;  no  one  else.  If  I'm  not  drunk  or  dreaming,  that's 
my  own  Jack.  God  be  praised !  " 

"  How  in  Heaven's  name  did  you  get  here  ? " 

"  I  might  ask  you  the  same  question,  but  you  have  prior- 
ity of  query,  as  they  say  in  court.  I  came  here  first  to  help 
rescue  Captain  Wesley  Boone,  and  second  to  capture  his  rebel 
Excellency  Jeff  Davis." 

"  O  my  God !  my  God !  Barney,  Barney,  tell  me  all, 
and  tell  me  quickly !  " 

Barney  told  all  he  knew,  and  told  it  rapidly,  Jack  catch- 
ing his  arm  almost  fiercely,  as  the  miserable  truth  began  to 
define  itself  in  his  whirling  senses.  Then  the  meaning  of 
the  two  marauders  in  the  ladies'  apartments  became  plain. 
Jack  and  Barney  were  hurrying  toward  the  chamber  as  the 
latter  talked,  Jack  filled  with  an  awful  fear. 


CHAPTER  XXI. 

THE  STORY  OF  THE  NIGHT. 

Now,  the  timely — or  untimely — appearance  of  Jack  and 
Dick  in  the  crisis  of  the-plot  came  about  in  this  way :  Dick, 
on  returning  from  Jack's  room,  had  remarked,  with  quicken- 
ing suspicion,  a  gleam  of  light  under  Wesley's  door.  Per- 
haps he  is  ill,  the  boy  thought,  compunctiously ;  if  he  were, 


.232  THE   mox   GAME. 

he  (Dick)  ought  to  offer  his  services.  He  started  to  carry 
this  kind  thought  into  effect,  when  he  heard  suspicious 
sounds  in  the  room.  Some  one  was  moving.  He  waited, 
now  in  alert  anticipation.  The  plaintive  signal  of  the  whip- 
poorwill — bringing  passionate  energy  to  Wesley — reached 
Dick's  ears ;  he  heard  the  opening  of  the  window ;  then  si- 
lence. Could  Wesley  be  descending  thence  to  the  ground  ? 
He  blew  out  his  candle,  drew  the  curtain,  and  cautiously 
raised  the  window.  No ;  Wesley  was  not  getting  out.  Then 
the  sound  of  the  Pizarro  episode  came  dimly  through  the 
walls.  He  thought  the  dog's  expostulatory  growls  a  voice. 
There  was  some  one  in  the  room  with  Wesley.  Perhaps  it 
was  Kate.  It  wouldn't  do  to  act  until  he  was  sure  that  his 
suspicions  were  a  certainty.  Besides,  Jack  had  warned  him 
not  to  interfere  with  a  mere  escape  on  Wesley's  part,  unless 
it  seemed  to  involve  depredations  upon  the  Atterburys. 
Then  he  heard  the  faint  sound  of  the  scuffle,  when  Wesley 
throttled  the  compromising  mastiff.  Should  he  slip  over 
and  warn  Jack  ?  He  was  moving  toward  the  door,  when, 
through  the  stillness  of  the  night,  a  sound  came  up  from  'the 
direction  of  the  quarters.  He  ran  lightly  to  the  window 
again.  His  eyes,  now  accustomed  to  the  darkness  hi  his 
room,  distinguished  clearly  in  the  pale  starlight.  He  thrilled 
with  a  sudden  sensation  of  choking.  .Yonder,  stealing  house- 
ward  from  the  rose-gardens,  he  could  plainly  discern  two — 
four — six — moving  figures.  Heavens,  the  slaves  were  out ! 
There  was  to  be  a  servile  uprising.  Now  he  must  go  and 
warn  Jack ;  but  he  must  note  first  whither  the  assassins  were 
directing  their  attack.  Perhaps,  with  the  aid  of  Jack's  pis- 
tols, they  could  be  frightened  away  by  a  few  shots  from  the 
windows.  He  ran  noiselessly  to  Jack's  room,  to  his  bed, 
and  whispered  in  his  sleeping  ear  : 

"Jack,  make  no  noise;  dress  yourself  and  come.  The 
negroes  are  surrounding  the  house,  and  Wesley  is  in  mis- 
chief." 

Jack  was  awake  and  in  his  clothes  in  a  few  seconds.  He 
handed  Dick  one  of  the  pistols,  and,  armed  with  the  other, 
hastened  toward  Wesley's  room.  The  door  was  open  and 


THE  STORY   OF  THE  NIGHT.  233 

all  was  silent.  Dick  looked  in  hastily,  marked  the  open 
window,  and  exclaimed : 

"  He  is  gone  !  Come  to  my  room.  I  know  exactly  where 
to  locate  them  from  my  window;  it  is  nearer  the  point  they 
halted  at  than  Wesley's." 

Yes;  figures  were  moving  swiftly  against  the  trellised 
walls  that  led  to  the  kitchen.  They  moved,  too,  with  the 
precision  of  people  thoroughly  acquainted  with  the  place. 
Then  some  one  appeared  swiftly  from  under  the  shadow  of 
the  house ;  then  three  came  toward  it  and  passed  under  the 
veranda  near  Wesley's  window.  Jack  leaned  far  out  to  dis- 
cover what  this  diversion  meant.  At  the  same  instant  the 
sounding  gallopade  of  hoofs  came  from  the  tranquil  roadway 
leading  to  the  stables.  The  shrill  whinny  of  horses  broke 
on  the  air. 

"  They  are  mounted.  There  are  a  score  of  them  ! "  Jack 
cried,  desperately.  "  We  can  at  least  keep  them  out  of  the 
house.'' 

"  We  can,  if  Wesley  hasn't  opened  the  doors  to  them," 
Dick  said,  shrewdly. 

"  That's  a  fact.  But  is  it  sure  Wesley  is  not  in  his  room  ? 
Bring  matches  and  let  us  examine  it." 

There  was  no  sign  of  Wesley  in  the  room.  The  cool 
night  air  poured  in  from  the  open  window. 

"  Draw  the  curtain  before  you  strike  the  match,"  Jack 
whispered.  "  We  must  not  let  a  light  be  seen  from  the  out- 
side." 

"  But  the  curtains  are  thin,  the  light  will  shine  through." 

"  Sh  !  Come  here.  By  Heaven,  it  is  Wesley,  and  he  is 
dead  !  No — the  devil  ! — it  is  Pizarro — dead  !  Kneel  down 
and  strike  a  match,  keeping  between  the  light  and  the  win- 
dow. One  glance  will  be  enough." 

One  glimpse  revealed  the  dog  with  distended  tongue  and 
half -glazed  eyes,  but  still  alive.  Jack  loosed  the  band  from 
the  neck.  The  dog  gave  a  convulsive  thrill  and  uttered  a 
plaintive  moan. 

"  Set  a  basin  of  water  down  here.  He  may  recover.  Poor 
fellow  !  This  was  a  cruel  return  for  his  kindness  to  Wesley," 


234  THE   IRON   GAME. 

Jack  said,  forcing  the  dog's  nose  into  the  basin.  He  began 
to  lap  the  cool  water  greedily.  But  now  Dick,  in  the  door- 
way, uttered  a  cry. 

"They  are  in  the  house.  I  hear  them  moving  in  the 
vestibule.  Come,  for  God's  sake,  Jack  !  They  are  making 
for  Mrs.  Atterbury's  apartment.  Evidently  some  one  who 
knows  that  the  family  jewels  are  there,  for  what  else  can 
they  want  ? " 

The  dog  staggered  to  his  feet  as  the  two  stole  softly  from 
the  room.  They  followed  with  high-wrought,  loudly-beating 
hearts  and  tingling  nerves.  The  marauders  in  front  of  them 
moved  011  like  men  accustomed  to  the  house.  They  made, 
as  the  light  footfalls  indicated,  straight  for  Mrs.  Atterbury's 
door,  which,  unlike  the  others,  fronted  the  length  of  the  hall 
in  a  small  vestibule  sunk  into  the  lateral  wall.  The  invaders 
were  thus  screened  from  Jack  and  Dick  when  they  had 
turned  the  corner,  and  the  latter  were  forced  to  move  with 
painful  caution  to  get  the  advantage  of  surprise  to  offset 
superior  numbers.  But  now  a  new  peril  menaces  them.  A 
shuffling  in  the  long  corridor  behind  them  freezes  the  cur- 
rent of  their  blood.  They  have  been  caught  in  a  trap.  There 
are  two  forces  in  the  house.  They  both  turn  and  halt,  silent 
and  trembling,  against  the  south  wall  and  wait.  The  steps 
still  advance,  the  scraping  of  the  nailed  boots  tears  the  light 
matting. 

"  We  will  wait  until  the  new-comer  or  new-comers  are 
abreast,"  Jack  breathes  in  Dick's  ear,  "  and  then  fire  a  volley 
into  them  point  blank." 

At  the  instant  Rosa's  shriek,  blood-curdling  and  electric, 
breaks  from  the  corner.  Dick  is  over  the  intervening  steps 
in  two  mighty  bounds,  Jack  at  his  heels  and  the  foe  in  the 
rear  following.  Against  the  open  window  Dick  catches  the 
outlines  of  his  darling  in  the  brawny  arms  of  Tarquin.  He 
has  the  advantage  of  the  light,  and,  as  the  ruffian  retreats  to 
the  window,  Dick  is  at  his  side,  and  in  an  instant  deals  him 
a  stunning  blow  on  the  head.  Jack,  in  the  dim  light,  sees 
the  dark  figure  dashing  at  him  with  the  gleam  of  steel  in 
his  hand.  He  levels  his  weapon,  three  reports  ring  out  at 


THE   STORY   OF  TIIE  NIGHT.  235 

once,  and  the  miserable  Wesley  falls  with  a  dreadful  gur- 
gling gasp  on  the  floor. 

But  there  are  interlopers  in  the  rear  as  well !  Jack  turned 
to  confront  them.  He  realized  vaguely  hearing  a  struggle  as 
he  confronted  the  robbers.  Ah!  yes,  the  dog;  the  dog  has 
come  upon  the  scene.  There  is  sound  of  low,  fierce,  growl- 
ing, flying  footsteps  on  the  floor,  and  Jack,  assuring  himself 
by  a  quick  glance  that  there  were  no  more  marauders  in  the 
room,  hurried  to  see  that  the  front  door  was  closed  before 
re-enforcements  could  come  to  the  invaders.  But  Pizarro's 
lusty  growls,  denoting  recovered  strength,  attracted  him 
kitchen  ward,  and  he  encountered  Barney,  and  with  Barney 
something  of  a  clew  to  the  hideous  attempt.  One  prayer 
was  in  his  heart— one  hope— that  Wesley  had  escaped;  but 
with  shuddering  horror  he  hastened  with  Barney  back  to 
the  scene  of  blood  and  death.  The  great  candelabra  on  the 
mantel  had  been  lighted,  and  the  room  was  visible  as  in 
daylight.  Jack  halted,  transfixed,  horror-stricken,  in  the 
doorway.  The  women  in  hastily  snatched  robes  were  all 
there,  and  on  the  floor,  wailing  over  the  dead  body  of  Wes- 
ley, Kate  sat,  prone  and  disheveled,  calling  to  him  to  look 
at  her,  to  speak  to  her,  as  she  kissed  the  cold  lips  in  incredu- 
lous despair.  She  paid  no  heed  to  Mrs.  Atterbury,  to  Olym- 
pia,  kneeling  beside  her — all  her  heart,  all  her  senses  be- 
numbed in  the  agony  of  the  cruel  blow.  Jack  moved  to  the 
piteous  group,  and,  dropping  on  his  knees,  felt  the  lifeless 
pulse,  and  sank  back,  pale  and  shrinking,  with  the  feeling 
that  he  was  a  murderer.  Mrs.  Atterbury  turned  to  him, 
crying  convulsively  : 

"  Oh,  what  does  it  mean,  Mr.  Sprague  ?  what  does  it 
mean  ? " 

"  It  is  a  dreadful  game  of  cross-purposes.  These  unhappy 
men  believed  Mr.  Davis  to  be  in  this  room  when  they  en- 
tered. They  meant  to  capture  him  and  carry  him  North." 

"  Ah,  thank  God !  thank  God !  who  carried  our  President 
away  in  time,"  and  the  matron  clasped  her  hands  fervently 
as  she  sank  in  a  chair.  But  the  sight  of  Kate,  woe-begone, 
feverishly  caressing  the  dead  brother,  brought  the  tenderer 


236  THE   IROX   GAME. 

instincts  back.  She  rose  again,  and,  clasping  her  arms  about 
the  poor  girl,  said  pleadingly : 

"  Let  him  be  carried  to  his  room ;  you  are  covered  with 
blood." 

"  Ah,  it  is  his  blood,  his  innocent  blood !  Murdered,  when 
he  should  have  found  merry." 

Jack  found  tongue  now.  He  was  hideously  calm — the 
frightful  calm  of  great-hearted  men,  who  use  mirth,  levity, 
and  indolency  to  hide  emotion. 

''Miss  Boone — Kate— it  was  perhaps  the  shot  from  my 
pistol  that  killed  Wesley.  I  did  it  in  defense  of  women  in 
peril,  in  defense  of  my  own  life.  It  was  an  accident  in  one 
sense.  Had  I  known  the  circumstances  I  certainly  shouldn't 
have  fired,  but  you  must  put  the  blame  on  me,  not  upon  this 
guiltless  household." 

She  looked  up  at  him — looked  with  a  wild,  despairing, 
unbelieving  gaze,  pressing  the  handsome  dead  face  to  her 
bosom,  and  then,  with  a  wild,  wailing  sob,  bent  her  head 
until  the  shining  dark  mass  of  hair  fell  like  a  funeral  veil 
over  her  own  and  the  dead  face.  Rosa,  who  had  disappeared 
in  the  dressing-room,  now  entered  the  chamber.  Turning 
from  the  woful  group  on  the  floor,  she  glanced  hastily  about, 
as  if  in  search  of  some  one.  Her  eyes  fell  upon  Dick,  dazed 
and  bleeding,  on  the  couch.  She  ran  to  him  with  a  ten- 
der cry. 

"  O  Richard !  are  you  hurt  ?  Great  heavens !  your  face  is 
all  blood.  You  are  wounded.  O  mamma,  come — come — 
Richard  is  dying! " 

The  boy  tried  his  best  to  smile,  holding  his  hand  over  his 
left  side,  as  if  stifling  pain.  He  smiled — a  bright,  contented 
happy  smile — as  Rosa  knelt,  sobbing,  by  his  side,  and,  open- 
ing his  jacket,  baring  the  blood-stained  shirt,  plucked  a  pur- 
plish rose  from  the  bleeding  bosom. 

"  The  white  rose  is  red  now,  Rosa." 

"Oh,  my  darling!  my  darling!"  Rosa  sobbed;  and  the 
boy,  smiling  in  the  joy  of  it,  tried  to  raise  himself  to  fold 
her  in  his  arms.  But  the  long  tension  had  been  too  much — 
he  fell  back  unconscious. 


THE  STORY  OF  THE  NIGHT.          237 

Olympia  saw  that  Mrs.  Atterbury,  the  natural  head  of  the 
house,  was  unequal  to  the  dismal  burden  of  control.  She 
took  the  painful  duty  of  order  upon  herself,  sent  Jack  to 
summon  the  servants,  called  Barney  to  her  aid  in  removing1 
Dick  to  his  room,  and,  when  the  terrified  housemaids  came, 
distributed  the  rest  to  the  nearest  apartments.  Morning 
had  dawned  when  the  work  was  done,  and  then  Jack  set 
out  to  investigate  the  condition  of  the  quarters.  Twenty  or 
more  of  the  negroes  had  disappeared.  It  was  easy  to  trace 
them  to  the  swamp,  but  Jack  made  no  attempt  to  organize 
a  pursuit.  Blood  could  be  traced  on  the  white  shell  path 
leading  to  the  rose-fields,  and  the  pond  gate  was  wide  open. 
He  reported  the  state  of  affairs  to  Mrs.  Atterbury.  She 
begged  him  to  take  horse  to  Williamsburg,  bring  the  sur- 
geon, and  deliver  a  note  to  the  commanding  officer.  He 
returned  in  two  hours  with  the  surgeon,  and  a  half-hour 
later  a  cavalry  troop  clattered  into  the  grounds. 

Dick's  wound  was  first  examined.  The  ball  had  entered 
the  fleshy  part  of  his  chest,  just  under  the  armpit.  It  was 
readily  extracted,  and,  if  so  much  blood  had  not  been  lost, 
the  boy  would  not  be  in  serious  danger.  Wesley  had  died 
almost  instantly.  The  ball  entered  his  breast  just  above 
the  heart.  He  had  passed  away  painlessly.  Jones  was  shot 
through  the  right  shoulder,  the  ball  passing  clear  across  the 
breast,  grazing  the  upper  ribs,  and  lodging  just  above  the 
left  lung.  He  was,  by  Mrs.  Atterbury's  command,  removed 
to  the  quarters  and  delivered  to  the  commander  of  the  cav- 
alry troop  as  a  spy,  an  inciter  of  servile  insurrection.  By 
order  of  the  department  commander,  civilians  were  refused 
all  communication  with  him,  as  the  Davis  cabinet  meant  to 
make  a  stern  example  so  soon  as  he  was  able  to  bear  trial. 
Mrs.  Atterbury  announced  to  Jack  and  Olympia  that  so  soon 
as  Dick  could  bear  removal  the  house  would  be  closed  and 
the  family  return  to  Richmond.  They  heard  this  with 
relief,  for  the  place  had  become  hideous  to  all  now.  To 
Jack  it  was  a  reminder  of  his  misfortune,  and  to  every  one 
of  the  group  it  was  associated  with  crime,  treason,  and  blood. 
The  hardest  part  of  poor  Jack's  burden  was  the  seizure  of 


238  THE   IROX   GAME. 

Barney,  who  was  marched  off  by  the  cavalry  commander. 
Vincent  gone,  Jack  had  no  one  to  reach  the  ear  of  authority, 
and  he  shrank  from  asking  the  intervention  of  the  mistress 
whose  home  had  been  invaded  by  the  guiltless  culprit.  The 
case  was  stated  with  all  the  eloquence  Jack  was  master  of 
to  the  captain  in  command. 

"  You  are  a  soldier,  sir,"  the  officer  replied.  "  You  know 
I  have  no  latitude  in  the  matter.  This  Moore  has  no  status 
as  a  regular  prisoner  of  war ;  he  is  found  on  the  premises 
of  a  non-combatant  aiding  servile  insurrection.  Even  Presi- 
dent Davis  himself  could  not  intervene.  The  Southern 
people  are  deeply  agitated  by  Butler's  attempts  to  arouse 
the  negroes.  We  have  been  weakened,  robbed  by  the  ab- 
duction of  hundreds  right  here  on  the  Peninsula.  The  gang 
that  Moore  came  here  with  was  led  by  this  scoundrel  Jones, 
who  is  Butler's  agent.  A  very  vigorous  example  must  be 
made  of  these  wretches,  or  the  country-side  will  be  deserted 
and  the  government  will  be  without  produce.  We  must 
inspire  confidence  in  the  owners  of  plantations,  or  the  sol- 
diers in  the  army  will  have  to  come  back  to  guard  their 
homes." 

Jack  saw  the  futility  of  further  pleading.  The  officer 
was  unquestionably  right.  Such  scenes  as  Rosedale  had 
witnessed  would  end  in  the  desertion  of  the  rural  regions  of 
the  Confederacy.  At  Mrs.  Atterbury's  urgent  intercession 
Kate  was  permitted  to  leave  the  lines  with  her  dead.  She  was 
conducted  to  the  rebel  outposts  in  the  Atterbury  carriage,  and 
under  a  flag  of  truce  entered  the  Union  lines  near  Hampton. 
Olympia  accompanied  her  in  the  carriage,  Jack  riding  with 
the  escort.  Kate  refused  every  suggestion  to  see  Jack  ;  re- 
fused his  own  prayerful  message,  and  sternly,  solemnly  with 
her  dead  passed  from  the  scene  of  her  sorrows. 

Youth  and  something  else  stronger  than  medicine,  more 
tenacious  than  any  other  motive  that  keeps  the  life-current 
brisk  and  vigorous,  made  Dick's  recovery  swift  and  sure. 
Rosa  had  no  torments  for  him  now.  The  blood-red  rose 
had  proved  a  magician's  amulet  to  confirm  her  mind  in  the 
sweet  teachings  of  her  heart.  But  the  patrician  mother  was 


A   CARPET-KNIGHT.  239 

with  difficulty  brought  to  listen  to  the  tying  of  this  love- 
knot.  She  had  looked  forward  to  a  grand  alliance  for  the 
heiress  of  Rosedale — an  alliance  that  should  hring  the  fam- 
ily .high  up  in  the  dominant  hierarchy  of  the  South.  Sho 
listened  silently  to  the  young  girl's  pleading  prattle  of  tho 
boy's  bravery,  his  wit,  his  manliness.  She  did  not  say  no, 
but  she  hoped  to  find  a  way  to  distract  her  daughter  from 
a  mesalliance,  which  would  not  only  diminish  her  child's 
rank,  but  compromise  the  family  politically.  Such  a  sacri^ 
fice  could  not  be.  Fortunately,  both  were  mere  children, 
and  the  knot  would  unravel  itself  without  perplexities  that 
maturer  love  would  have  involved.  So  the  mother  smiled 
on  the  happy  girl,  kissed  Dick  tenderly  morning  and  night, 
for  he  had  been  a  hero  ha  their  defense,  and  she  was  too 
kindly  of  heart,  too  loyal  to  obligation,  to  permit  Dick's  atti- 
tude of  suitor  to  lessen  her  fondness  and  admiration  for  the 
bright,  handsome  lad.  Olympia  was  the  confidante  of  both 
the  lovers,  listened  with  her  usual  good-humor  to  the  boy's 
raptures  and  the  girl's  panegyrics,  and  soon  came  to  share 
Jack's  high  place  in  the  happy  lovers'  devotion. 


CHAPTER  XXII. 

A  CARPET-KNIGHT. 

JACK  meanwhile  sank  into  incurable  gloom.  The  mem- 
ory of  Kate's  mute,  reproachful  look,  her  heart-broken  out- 
cry, never  quitted  him.  He  woke  at  times  with  the  dead 
eyes  of  Wesley  staring  into  the  night  at  him,  the  convicting 
gaze  of  Kate  fastened  upon  him.  He  must  fly,  or  he  must 
die  in  this  abhorred,  guilt-haunted  atmosphere.  Olympia 
saw  this,  Mrs.  Atterbury  saw  it,  and  the  first  week  in  No- 
vember Rosedale  was  turned  over  to  the  military  and  the 
household  re-established  in  the  stately  house  in  the  official 
quarter  of  Richmond,  where  the  bustle  and  movement  of  new 
16 


2iO  THE   IROX   GAME. 

conditions  gave  Jack's  mind  another  direction,  or,  rather, 
took  it  from  the  bitter  brooding  that  threatened  madness. 

When  the  sun  accepted  the  wind's  challenge  to  contest 
for  the  traveler's  cloak,  I  dare  say  all  the  spectators  of  the 
novel  highway  robbery — the  moon,  the  stars,  the  trees,  birds 
and  beasts,  and  others  that  the  fable  does  not  mention— took 
odds  that  the  wind  would  snatch  off  the  wayfarer's  garment 
in  triumph.  However,  the  wind  whipped  and  thrashed  the 
poor  man  in  vain.  The  stronger  it  blew  and  the  more  it 
walloped  the  cloak's  folds,  the  tighter  and  more  determinedly 
the  traveler  held  on  to  it,  as  he  plodded  wearily  over  the 
hillside.  But  when  the  sun  came  caressingly,  inspiring  gen- 
tle confidence,  bathing  the  body  in  warm  moisture,  the  tena- 
cious hold  was  relaxed,  then  the  disputed  coat  was  thrown 
over  his  arm,  and,  as  the  vista  spread  far  away  in  golden 
light,  the  victim  cast  the  garment  by  the  wayside  and  the 
sun  came  off  victor.  Youth  is  despoiled  of  the  garment  of 
grief  in  this  sort.  Congenial  warmth,  the  sunshine  of 
friendliness,  soon  relax  the  mantle  of  woe,  and  the  path  that 
looks  wintry  and  hard  becomes  a  way  of  light  and  gayety. 

It  was  by  mingling — at  first  perfunctorily — in  the  gay- 
ety of  the  Confederate  capital  that  Jack  lost  the  melan- 
choly in  which  the  tragedy  at  Rosedale  had  clothed  his 
spirits.  At  worst,  the  calamity  was  over;  he  had  been  a 
guiltless  vengeance  in  the  punishment  of  Wesley's  treason. 
So  he  took  bond  in  hope  of  better  things  to  come.  With  a 
stout  heart,  strong  limbs,  a  plowman's  appetite,  and  a  natu- 
ral bent  to  joyousness,  a  youth  of  twenty-two  or  three  is  not 
apt  to  mistake  his  memories  for  his  hopes  and  hang  the 
horizon  in  black  when  the  sun  is  shining  in  his  eyes ! 

Richmond,  always  the  center  of  a  fascinating  society, 
was  at  that  time  exuberant  in  her  young  metropolitan  glo- 
ries. It  was  the  gayest  capital  in  the  Western  hemisphere. 
To  resist  its  seductions  would  have  tasked  the  self-denial  of 
a  more  constant  anchorite  than  our  dashing  Jack  ever 
aspired  to  be,  in  the  lowest  stage  of  his  martial  vicissi- 
tudes. There  was  nothing  of  the  garishness  of  the  parvenu 
in  the  capitol's  display.  The  patrician  caste  ruled  in  camp 


A  CARPET-KXIGHT.  211 

and  court.  The  walls  that  had  echoed  to  the  oratory  of 
Jefferson,  Henry,  Washington,  Randolph,  now  housed  the 
young  Congress  of  the  new  Confederacy.  An  hundred 
years  of  political,  military,  legal,  and  social  precedence  were 
the  inheritance  of  the  men  chief  in  the  cabinet,  the  council, 
and  the  camp.  Stirring  traditions  clung  about  every  quar- 
ter of  the  town,  now  devoted  to  the  offices  of  administra- 
tion, from  the  Mayo  wharves  to  the  lodgings  of  Washington 
and  Lafayette.  On  the  stately  square  yonder,  where  the 
musing  eye  of  the  rebel  chief  might  study  its  history,  stood 
the  suggestive  mansion  where  Burr's  treason  was  brought 
home  to  that  first  great  rebel. 

Not  far  distant  the  disdainful  pointed  out  the  tenement 
where  Fremont  had  instructed  the  Richmond  youth  in  far 
other  doctrines  than  those  which  made  him  the  abolitionist 
choice  for  President  in  after-times.  Royalist  and  republican 
glories  mingled  in  the  reliquary  edifices  that  met  the  won- 
dering eyes  of  the  provincial  Confederates  drawn  to  the 
capital  in  the  generous  enthusiasm  of  that  first  prodigious 
achievement  at  Bull  Run.  Here  a  royal  Governor  had 
dwelt,  yonder  a  Bonaparte  had  sojourned  and  beguiled  the 
famous  beauties  of  Powhatan,  as  the  patriarchs  loved  to 
call  the  city.  A  Lee  was  the  chief  of  the  military  staff,  a 
Randolph  ruled  the  war  office ;  scions  of  the  Washingtons 
family  filled  a  dozen  subordinate  places;  the  kin  of  Patrick 
Henry  revived  their  ancestor's  glory  by  as  zealous  a  devo- 
tion to  the  new  revolution.  With  personages  like  these  in 
every  office  the  society  of  the  new  capital  revived  the  brill- 
iancy of  the  French  Directory  and  also  the  character  of 
the  States-General,  while  Holland  held  the  Spains  at  bay. 
The  blockade  had  not  yet  pinched  the  affluent,  nor  beggared 
the  industries  of  the  well-to-do.  Always  famous  for  a  brill- 
iant bar,  a  learned  judiciary,  and  a  cultivated  taste  among 
its  women,  Richmond  in  1861  was  the  ideal  of  a  political, 
military,  and  social  rendezvous  of  a  young  nation. 

The  raw  legions  had  been  victorious  in  the  first  pitched 
battle  of  the  war  on  the  plains  of  Manassas,  and  what  might 
not  be  reasonably  hoped  from  them  under  the  training  of 


242  THE   IROX   GAME. 

such  master-minds  as  Johnston,  Beauregard,  Jackson,  and 
Lee  ?  Wasn't  it  the  common  talk  among  diplomats,  the 
concurrent  opinion  of  the  French  and  English  press,  the 
-despairing  admission  of  the  half-hearted  and  panic-stricken 
North,  that  one  more  such  decisive  victory  would  bring  the 
South  peace  and  independence  ?  Wasn't  it,  indeed,  well 
known  among  the  favored  juntas  that  those  sagacious  diplo- 
mats, Senators  Mason  and  Slidell,  had  delayed  their  journey 
to  Europe  in  order  to  aid  the  President  in  the  treaty  of  peace 
that  the  victorious  legions  of  Johnston  were  to  exact  in 
Washington  ? 

Jack  was  amazed  and  disheartened  at  what  he  saw  and 
heard.  The  activity,  resources,  gayety,  and  confidence  of  the 
authorities  and  people,  recalled  to  his  mind,  Oxford,  the 
jocund  capital  of  Charles  II  and  the  royalists,  while  the 
Commonwealth  leaders  were  drilling  their  armies.  But  in- 
stead of  the  chaos  of  rapine,  the  wanton  excesses,  the  pillage 
of  churches  and  colleges  that  marked  the  tenure  of  the  miser- 
able Charles,  Richmond  was  as  orderly,  serene,  the  Congress 
as  deliberate,  and  the  people  as  content,  as  the  Rome  of  the 
conquest  of  Persia  or  France  after  Jemmapes.  The  army 
was  hot  for  battle,  and  as  confident  of  the  result  as  the  Guard 
at  Austerlitz  or  McClellan  at  Malvern.  The  work  done  and 
the  way  of  its  doing  showed  that  the  populace,  as  well  as 
the  rulers,  were  convinced  of  the  destiny  of  the  city  to  be 
henceforth  mistress  of  herself,  the  preordained  metropolis 
of  half  the  continent — perhaps  the  whole  continent — for, 
would  the  North  be  able  to  resist  joining  States  with  a  des- 
tiny so  glorious — a  regal  republic  where  birth  and  rank 
were  tacitly  enthroned  ?  The  city's  greatness  was  taken  by 
the  mass,  as  a  matter  of  course — like  an  heir  in  chancery 
who  has  won  all  but  the  final  decree  in  the  suit,  or  like  a 
great  nobleman  who  has  come  to  his  inheritance. 

Though  it  was  the  first  week  of  November  when  the 
Atterburys  found  home  affairs  going  on  smoothly  in  the 
town-house,  summer  still  disputed  with  winter  the  short 
lovely  days  of  fall,  as  Jack  described  the  lingering  May-day 
mildness  of  this  seductive  Southern  autumn.  It  was  the  first 


A   CARPET-KNIGHT.  243 

season  he  had  ever  spent  south  of  New  York,  and,  like  most 
Americans,  he  realized,  with  wonder,  that  the  wind  which 
brought  ice  and  snow  to  New  York,  visited  lower  Virginia 
with  only  a  sharp  evening  and  morning  reminder  that  sum- 
mer was  gone.  The  balm  and  beauty  of  the  climate  came 
with  something  of  healing  to  the  hurt  his  heart  and  hope 
had  suffered  at  Eosedale.  If  anything  could  have  mitigated 
the  pangs  of  a  young  warrior  perplexed  in  love  and  held  in 
leash  in  war,  it  was  such  an  existence  as  the  Atterburys  in- 
veigled him  into  leading.  The  part  of  carpet-knight  is  not 
difficult  to  learn,  and  the  awkwardness  of  it  is  to  some  ex- 
tent atoned  for  when  the  service  is  constrained.  At  least 
Jack  took  this  philosophical  view  of  it,  and  soon  gave  himself 
up  to  the  merry  social  life  of  his  surroundings  with  an  ani- 
mation that  led  his  hosts  to  hope  that  he  might  be  won  over  to 
the  Confederate  cause.  Very  young  men  do  not  sorrow  long 
or  deeply,  and  Jack  was  young.  He  was  neither  reckless 
nor  trifling,  but  I  am  sure  that  none  of  the  adulating  groups 
that  made  much  of  the  handsome  Yankee  in  Richmond  that 
season  would  have  suspected  that  the  young  man  looked  in 
his  mirror  night  and  morning,  frowned  darkly  at  the  reflect- 
ed image  he  saw  there,  and  said,  solemnly,  "  You  are  a  mur- 
derer ! "  It  was  by  no  means  a  tragic  accent  in  which  this 
thrilling  apostrophe  was  spoken.  It  was  very  much  in  the 
tone  that  a  woman  employs  when  she  looks  hastily  in  the 
mirror  and  utters  a  soft  "  What  a  fright  I  am  ! "  apparently 
receiving  comforting  contradiction  enough  from  the  mirror 
to  make  the  remark  worth  frequent  repetition. 

As  a  matter  of  fact,  however,  Jack  was  not  insensible  to 
the  awkward  complication  of  his  predicament.  Grief  as  a 
mantle  is  difficult  to  adjust  to  the  shoulders  of  the  young; 
It  is  melted  by  the  ardor  of  companionship  as  swiftly  as  it 
is  spun  by  the  loom  of  adversity.  His  interest  in  the  strange 
scenes  that  the  war  brought  to  pass,  his  association  with  peo- 
ple— intimate  in  a  sense  with  the  leading  forces  of  rebellion, 
the  airs  of  incipient  grandeur,  these  raw  instruments  of  gov- 
ernment gave  themselves — all  these  things  engrossed  the 
observant  faculties  of  the  young  man,  -who  looked  out  upon 


24t  THE   IRON   GAME. 

the  serio-comic  harlequinade  playing  about  him  as  a  hostage 
of  the  Eoundheads  might  have  taken  part  in  the  showy  fes- 
tivities of  the  Cavaliers,  in  the  years  when  the  chances  of  bat- 
tle had  .not  gone  over  wholly  to  the  Puritans.  Not  that  the 
figure  illustrates  the  contrasting  conditions  adequately.  For, 
if  the  South  prided  itself  at  all— and  the  South  did  pride  it- 
self vauntingly,  clamorously,  and  incessantly — it  made  its 
chief  boast  the  point  that  its  people  were  the  gentry  of  the 
land,  and  that  under  the  rebel  banner  the  hosts  of  chivalry 
had  assembled  anew  to  make  all  manner  of  fine  things  the 
rule  of  life.  Jack,  writing  and  talking  of  his  few  months' 
experience,  dwelt  with  wonder  upon  the  curious  ignorance 
of  the  two  peoples  respecting  each  other.  Mason  and  Dixon's 
line  separated  two  civilizations  as  markedly  unlike  as  the 
peoples  that  confront  each  other  on  either  side  the  Vistula 
or  the  Baltic  Sea.  The  hierarchy  not  only  seemed  to  love 
war  for  war's  sake ;  they  possessed  that  feudal  faculty,  so  in- 
comprehensible in  the  middle  ages,  the  power  of  making 
those  who  suffered  most  by  it  believe  in  it  too,  and  sacrifice 
themselves  for  it. 

The  people — Jack  sagaciously  remarked,  in  discussing  the 
topic  with  Olympia — seemed  made  for  such  a  climate,  rather 
than  made  by  it.  They  would  have  been  out  of  place  in  the 
bleak  autumn  blasts,  and  wan,  colorless  seasons  of  Acredale, 
where  the  sun,  bleary  and  dim,  furtively  skirted  the  low 
horizon  from  November  until  April,  as  if  ashamed  to  be 
identified  with  the  glorious  courser  that  rode  the  radiant 
summer  sky.  Here  the  sun  came  up  of  a  morning — a  little 
tardy,  'tis  true,  but  quite  in  the  manner  of  the  people — warm 
and  engaging,  and  when  he  went  down  in  the  afternoon  he 
covered  the  western  sky  with  a  roseate  mantle  that  fairly 
kept  out  the  chill  of  the  Northern  night.  "No  wonder," 
Jack  oaid  to  his  sister,  watching  this  daily  spectacle — "no 
wonder  these  people  are  warm,  impulsive,  and  even  ener- 
getic; here  is  an  Italian  climate  without  the  enervating  lan- 
guor of  that  sensuous  sunshine." 

The  Atterbury  house  was  the  gayest  in  Richmond.  Mrs. 
Atterbury,  though  the  mother  of  a  son  in  the  army  ami  a 


A  CARPET-KNIGHT.  245 

daughter  with  a  coterie  of  her  own  in  society,  insisted  on 
maintaining  the  leadership  she  had  long  held  among  the 
social  forces  of  the  capital.  "  All  Richmond,"  and  that 
meant  a  good  deal  in  a  city  whose  women  had  been  adored 
for  beauty  and  wit  on  two  continents,  received  Mrs.  Atter- 
bury's  bidding  to  her  drawing-room  with  proud  alacrity. 
Never  had  her  "  teas,"  her  musicales,  her  receptions,  and 
fetes  been  merrier  or  more  convivial  than  during  this  mem- 
orable autumn  that  Jack  and  Olympia  passed  as  prisoners 
of  war.  It  was  generally  believed  that  the  brother  and  sis- 
ter were  occult  agents  of  the  Federal  power,  negotiating 
with  the  Davis  Cabinet,  and  Jack's  whimsical  sobriety  of 
speech  and  manner,  contrasting  with  his  former  high  animal 
spirits,  carried  out  the  notion  of  his  being  a  secret  ambassa- 
dor. 

It  was  at  a  reception  given  to  the  Cabinet  by  Mrs.  Atter- 
bury  that  the  rumor  of  this  accredited  function  came  to 
Jack's  ears.  "  All  Richmond  "  was  among  the  guests.  Olym- 
pia, in  spite  of  her  abhorrence  of  the  cause,  couldn't  resist 
a  glow  of  sympathetic  admiration  of  the  women  who,  in 
dress,  in  speech,  in  tact,  in  all  the  artifices  which  make  femi- 
nine diplomacy  so  potent  an  agency  in  statecraft,  bent  every 
faculty  to  inspire  confidence  in  the  new  Administration. 
Mrs.  Davis  herself  was  not  the  least  of  the  factors  that  made 
the  President's  policy  the  creed  of  the  land.  There  was  no 
elaboration  of  costume — no  obtrusive  jewels.  The  most 
richly  dressed  dame  in  the  company  was  a  Madame  Gannat, 
the  deity  of  the  most  charming  drawing-room  at  the  capital. 
At  her  house  society  was  always  sure  to  meet  the  European 
noblemen  traveling  in  the  country,  the  quasi  official  agents 
of  France,  England,  and  Austria,  accredited  to  the  new  Con- 
federacy, the  generals  of  the  Southern  armies  on  leave  in  the 
city,  and  the  political  leaders  able  to  snatch  an  evening's  re- 
laxation. For  some  reason  this  potential  personage  let  Olym- 
pia and  Jack  see  that  she  was  deeply  interested  in  them. 
She  took  the  young  man's  arm  late  in  the  evening,  and 
whispering,  "  Find  a  place  where  we  can  have  a  little  talk," 
accompanied  him  to  a  small  apartment  joining  a  conserva- 


246  THE   IRON   GAME. 

tory,  where  Mrs.  Atterbury  transacted  business  with  her 
agents. 

"  You  must  take  down  a  book,  so  that,  in  case  the  curious 
remark  us,  our  ttte-a-tete  may  not  be  regarded  as  conspir- 
acy." 

"  No  one  would  be  apt  to  associate  you  with  such  a  thing," 
Jack  said,  vaguely. 

"I  don't  know.  Like  all  conspiracies,  this  Confederate 
comedy  is  suspicious." 

"  Comedy,  Mrs.  Gannat  ?  Why,  I  never  saw  people  so  ear- 
nest !  I  can't  imagine  the  surroundings  of  Cromwell  more 
methodic." 

"  Ah,  yes;  those  who  have  all  to  lose  by  the  crash,  when 
it  comes,  are  bending  every  energy  to  impress  the  North  that 
we  are  all  of  one  mind  down  here ;  we  are  not.  I  am  talking 
frankly  with  you,  because  my  friend  Mrs.  Lanview  has  made 
me  fully  acquainted  with  your  circumstances.  I  have  asked 
you  for  a  talk  here  because  I  dare  not  have  you  at  my  house. 
No  one  suspects  my  loyalty  to  this  Davis  masquerade ;  but 
there  are  many  of  us  who  are  doing,  and  shall  do,  all  the 
better  work  for  the  Union  cause.  You  are  just  the  man 
needed  for  a  great  work  here ;  you  are  believed  to  be  secretly 
in  favor  of  the  Confederate  cause— an  ambassador,  in  short. 
Now,  the  special  purpose  of  this  talk  is  this :  The  men  caught 
at  Rosedale  three  weeks  ago  are  to  be  tried  before  a  military 
court.  If  you  and  this  young  man  Perley  could  escape  be- 
fore the  event,  it  would  bs  impossible  to  convict  them.  Mrs. 
Lanview  tells  me  that  you  are  very  closely  allied  to  the 
younger  prisoner,  Moore,  and  that  for  his  sake  you  will  do 
all  in  your  power  to  avoid  testifying." 

"  I  will  cut  out  my  tongue  before  a  syllable  from  me  shall 
bring  danger  to  that  noble  fellow !  " 

"  Exactly.  I  expected  as  much.  Now,  can  you  not  man- 
age to  inspire  Perley  with  the  same  sentiment  ?  If  you  can, 
we  feel  confident  that  the  court  will  be  unable  to  secure  evi- 
dence sufficient  to  convict.  I  leave  the  details  to  your  own 
ingenuity.  Your  absence  would  deprive  the  judge-advocate 
of  the  vital  witnesses,  but  your  refusal  to  testify  would  only 


A   CARPET-KNIGHT.  247 

bring  you  into  danger,  and  prolong  the  proceedings;  and 
with  time  we  hope  to  effect  an  escape.  Sh !  As  I  say,  Mr. 
Sprague,  the  heart  of  the  South  beats  with  one  impulse,  the 
triumph  of  the  noblest  inspiration  of  a  great  people." 

The  warning  and  sudden  change  in  topic  were  caused  by 
the  apparition  of  a  dame  who  came  rustling  in,  a  vision  of 
youthful  charms  and  vivaciousness. 

"  Mrs.  Didier  Rodney— Mr.  Sprague,"  Mrs.  Gannat  said, 
cordially.  "  You  are  sent  by  inspiration,  -for  I  am  doing  my 
poor  best  to  convince  this  obdurate  Yankee  to  turn  from  evil 
courses  and  do  a  duty  by  the  country  that  will  in  future 
make  his  name  illustrious." 

"  And  I  have  no  doubt  you  have  shaken  his  obstinacy,  if 
there  be  any  left,"  Mrs.  Eodney  murmured,  studying  Jack 
attentively.  "  I  have  just  been  dining  at  the  Executive  Man- 
sion, and  Mr.  Davis,  hearing  your  name,  lamented  that  wom- 
en were  not  eligible  to  office.  If  they  were,  he  declared  thai 
Mistress  Garniat  should  be  appointed  ambassadress  to  France, 
and  that,  within  ten  days  of  her  reception  at  the  Tuileries, 
there  would  be  a  treaty  of  alliance  signed  between  France 
and  the  Confederacy !  " 

"  I  take  that  as  rather  an  admission  of  weakness  on  your 
President's  part,"  Jack  said,  as  the  lady  glanced  inquiringly 
at  him,  "  since  it  is  a  poor  cause  that  requires  the  strongest 
advocates." 

"  Ah !  a  Southern  man  would  never  have  said  a  thing  so 
uncivil  as  that,"  Mrs.  Rodney  cried,  reproachfully.  "  You 
pay  Mrs.  Gannat  a  compliment  at  the  cost  of  the  Confeder- 
acy." 

"  And  Mr.  Davis  paid  me  a  compliment  at  the  expense  of 
the  truth,  so  the  account  is  squared,"  the  elder  lady  said,  se- 
renely. 

"  Well,  Mr.  Davis  is  here  himself  by  this  time,  and  you 
shall  talk  it  out  with  him,"  Mrs.  Rodney  retorted,  as  a  rustle 
at  the  door  announced  new-comers.  A  half-dozen  ladies 
came  trooping  in,  among  them  Mrs.  Davis  and  several  of  the 
Cabinet  ladies. 

"  We  heard  you  wei'e  here,  Madame  Gannat,"  the  Presi- 


248  THE   IRON   GAME. 

dent's  wife  murmured,  graciously.  "  And  since  you  wouldn't 
come  to  us,  we  have  come  to  you." 

Mrs.  Gannat  arose  to  receive  the  great  lady,  and  when  she 
had  exchanged  salutations  with  the  rest  she  presented  Jack. 

"  Ah !  the  hero  of  the  Rosedale  affair,"  and  as  Mrs.  Davis 
said  this  she  looked  keenly  at  the  young  man.  She  was,  he 
owned,  an  extremely  graceful  woman,  of  a  mature  beauty, 
admirable  manner,  and,  as  she  talked,  he  remarked  keen  in- 
telligence, with  an  occasional  evidence  of  reading,  if  not 
high  education.  She  was  dressed  in  simpler  taste  than  her 
u  court,"  as  it  was  the  fashion  then  to  style  the  Cabinet  group. 
A  few  jewels  were  half  hidden  in  the  rare  lace  that  covered 
her  bodice,  but  she  was  ungloved,  and  in  no  sense  in  the 
full-dress  understood  in  the  North,  at  a  gathering  of  the 
sort.  The  talk  became  general.  Jack,  not  knowing  the 
personages,  simply  listened.  There  was  animated  discus- 
sion as  to  whether  Mistress  Judge  this,  and  Mistress  General 
that,  or  Mistress  Senator  the  other,  would  be  in  the  capital  in 
time  for  the  opening  of  the  new  Congress  in  December. 

"  Mr.  Davis  is  very  anxious  to  have  the  occasion  made  a 
grand  one,  and  I  reckon  that  every  one  of  account  in  the 
Confederacy  will  be  here,"  Mrs.  Davis  said,  with  conviction. 

"  The  scene  will  be  worthy  of  a  great  painting,  like  the 
Long  Parliament,  or  the  meeting  of  the  Three  Estates,  at 
Versailles,"  Mrs.  Rodney  added,  in  a  glow  of  anticipation. 

This  amusing  pedantry  rather  taxed  the  historical  knowl- 
edge of  most  of  the  ladies,  and  to  divert  the  talk  Mrs.  Mon- 
teith,  a  Cabinet  lady,  said : 

"  Who  has  read  the  account  in  the  Yankee  papers  of  Lin- 
coln and  his  wife  at  a  reception  of  the  diplomatic  corps  ?  It 
is  too  funny.  The  Lincoln  woman  was  a  Southerner.  She 
has  some  good  blood,  and  ought  to  know  better.  She  was 
dressed  like  a  dowdy,  and  when  the  ministers  bowed  she 
gave  them  her  hand  and  said,  '  How  d'ye  do  ? ' " 

"  It  will  really  be  a  liberal  education  to  the  North  to  have 
a  capital  like  ours  near  them,  where  their  public  men  can 
learn  manners,  and  where  Northern  ladies  can  see  how  to 
conduct  themselves  in  public,"  Mrs.  Rodney  broke  in,  laugh- 


A   CARPET-KXIGIIT.  219 

ing.  "  It  is  not  often  a  great  people  go  to  war  for  an  idea, 
but  we  are  taking  up  the  gage  of  battle  to  teach  our  inferiors 
manners. " 

"  We  taught  them  how  to  run  at  Manassas,"  Mrs.  Starlow, 
a  Senator's  dame,  remarked. 

"  I'm  afraid  they  have  learned  the  lesson  so  well  that 
we  shall  never  teach  them -how  to  stand,"  Mrs.  Davis  added, 
gayly. 

"  Ah !  friends,  we  are  teaching  each  other  how  to  die — let 
us  not  forget  that,"  Mrs.  Gannat  murmured,  gently,  and 
there  was  a  sudden  hush  in  the  exchange  of  vivacities.  Be- 
fore the  strain  could  be  renewed,  Mrs.  Atterbury  entered 
hastily,  crying: 

"The  gentlemen  are  all  distracted.  We  are  going  to 
have  an  old-time  minuet,  such  as  my  mother  used  to  dance 
with  Justice  Marshall  and  Tom  Mayo.  The  President  is 
going  to  lead  with  Mistress  Weiidolph,  and  all  the  rest  of 
you  are  assigned,  by  command  of  the  Executive." 

"  Humph !  a  military  despotism  ? "  asked  Mrs.  Renfrew, 
a  young  bride  of  the  Executive  Mansion,  whose  husband  was 
confidential  adviser  of  the  President.  "  I  don't  think  I  shall 
obey.  I  shall  show  the  honesty  of  my  rebel  blood  by  select- 
ing my  own  partner,  unless  some  one  asks  me  very  humbly." 

"  Shall  I  go  on  my  knees,"  Mrs.  Renfrew  ? — I  know  no 
humbler  attitude."  Jack  said,  hastily  presenting  himself. 

"  Oh,  yes,  sir ;  there  is  something  humbler  than  the  knees." 

"  Yes  ?    What,  pray  ? " 

"  Repentance.  Deny  your  name ;  no  longer  be  a  Mon- 
tague—that is,  a  Yankee.  Give  me  the  hand  of  a  rebel. 
Then  I  shall  believe  you." 

"I  am  a  rebel." 

"  Ah !  you  have  been  converted  ? " 

u  I  never  was  perverted." 

"  You  have  been  with  us  all  the  time  ? " 

"  I  have  been  here  a  long  time ! " 

"  And  you  are  a  rebel.     Oh,  I  must  tell  Mr.  Davis ! " 

"  He  knows  it,  I  think." 

"  Oh,  no,  he  can  not ;  for  it  was  only  a  few  moments 


250  THE    IRON   GAME. 

since  that  he  said  to  Mrs.  Atterlmry  that  the  son  of  Senator 
Sprague,  the  friend  of  Calhoun  and  the  comrade  of  Hayne, 
should  be  in  the  ranks  of  the  young  nobility  upholding  our 
sacred  cause." 

"  I  am,  however,  a  rebel — a  rebel  to  all  these  fascinations 
I  see  about  me,  a  rebel  to  your  beauty,  a  rebel  to  all  you  de- 
sire." 

"  Pah !  you  odious  Yankee  ;  I  felt  certain  that  you  had 
not  come  to  your  senses." 

"I  don't  think  I  ever  lost  them — though  I  never  had 
enough  to  make  such  a  spirit  as  yours  lament  their  loss." 
The  rest  of  the  ladies  had  passed  out;  and,  as  this  repartee 
went  on,  Jack  led  his  petulant  companion  into  the  large 
drawing-room,  where  he  instantly  recognized  the  President 
with  Mrs.  Wendolph  on  his  arm.  He  towered  above  the 
mass  of  the  dancers,  eying  the  admiring  groups  with  atten- 
tive scrutiny.  He  was  in  evening  dress,  but,  unlike  the 
larger  number  of  the  eminent  partisans  in  the  rooms,  had 
no  insignia,  military  or  otherwise,  to  denote  exalted  rank. 

As  the  President  was  to  lead  off,  to  keep  up  the  character 
of  a  court  minuet,  the  middle  of  the  large  room  was  left  un- 
crowded.  The  music  began  what  Jack  thought  at  first  was 
a  funeral  march,  but  with  the  first  bars  the  tall,  slender 
figure  of  the  President  bent  almost  double,  while  the  lady 
seemed  fairly  seated  on  the  floor,  she  bent  down  and  back 
so  far.  She  had  adjusted  a  prodigious  silken  train,  which 
swept  and  swirled  in  many  bewildering  folds  as  she  slowly 
turned,  courtesied,  tripped  forward  and  retreated,  with  such 
bending  and  twisting  as  would  turn  a  ballet-master  mad 
with  envy.  In  all  the  movement  of  the  overture  the  two 
dancers  merely  touched  the  tips  of  each  other's  fingers,  and 
when  the  solemn  measure  came  to  a  close  the  President  slid 
across  the  floor  in  one  graceful,  immense  pirouette,  handing 
the  lady  who  confronted  him,  bent  nearly  to  the  ground, 
into  her  seat.  There  was  an  outburst  of  applause,  and  then 
the  assembly  took  places,  repeating,  in  as  far  as  the  mass 
would  permit,  the  stately  evolutions  of  the  leader. 

Later,  a  Virginia  reel  followed,  danced  with  old-time 


A   CARPET-KNIGHT.  251 

verve,  some  of  the  more  accomplished  dancers  bounding 
over  the  floor  in  pigeon-wings,  such  as  were  cut  by  the  nim- 
ble a  hundred  years  ago,  when  Richmond  danced  in  honor 
of  Washington  and  Lafayette.  There  was  no  end  of  drink- 
ing among  the  men,  and  as  soon  as  the  dancing  seemed  at 
its  height  the  matrons  began  to  gather  into  groups  and  send 
out  signals  to  the  younger  ladies.  The  feast  ended  in  drink- 
ing-bouts between  dispersed  bodies,  who  seemed  to  know  the 
names  of  all  the  servants,  and  ordered  as  liberally  as  if  in 
their  own  houses.  In  the  melee  of  separation,  Jack  felt  a 
hand  on  his  shoulder. 

"  Remember,  every  moment  is  precious.  Many  lives, 
perhaps  a  great  campaign,  depend  upon  your  discretion, 
promptitude,  and  loyalty.  Be  ready  when  the  signal  reaches 
you,  and  remember  you  do  not  know  me  beyond  the  civility 
of  a  presentation,  and  do  not  like  me." 

Jack  had  hardly  turned  as  these  words  were  whispered 
in  his  ear,  and  he  gave  the  kind  lady's  hand  a  warm  press- 
ure, as  she  moved  away  unremarked  in  the  throng. 

Jack,  confiding  Mrs.  Gannat's  disclosures  to  Olympia,  was 
elated  by  his  sister's  enthusiasm,  and  was  strengthened  in  his 
conviction  that  he  was  doing  right  by  her  approval. 

"  But  you^  know,  Polly,  that — I — I,  too,  must  be  of  the 
party?  I  must  fly  to  the  Union  lines." 

"  Of  course  you  will !  I  should  be  ashamed  of  you  were 
you  to  let  such  a  chance  pass.  It  is  the  only  thing  to  do ;  it 
is  your  duty  as  a  soldier  to  be  with  your  flag ;  any  means  to 
get  to  it  is  justified.  The  Atterburys  will  feel  hurt,  perhaps 
outraged,  but  I  can  soon  convince  them  that  you  have  only 
done  what  Vincent  would  do,  and  whatever  he  would  do 
they  will  soon  see  is  right  for  you  to  do,  even  though  it  may 
bring  them  into  temporary  disgrace  with  the  authorities. 
Of  late  I  have  begun  to  suspect  that  the  Atterburys  are  to 
blame  for  your  detention." 

"  What  do  you  mean  to  blame  ?  Surely  they  can  not 
hasten  the  slow  business  of  negotiation  ? " 

"  No ;  but  I'm  convinced  that  they  have  given  out  hopes 
that  you  can  be  seduced  into  a  soldier  of  secession.  It  is 


252  THE   IRON    GAME. 

common  talk  in  the  drawing-rooms  I  have  visited,  where  I 
was  not  always  recognized  as  your  sister.  The  silly  tale  has 
angered  me,  but  for  prudence'  sake  I  kept  silent.  I  have 
heard  in  a  score  of  places  that  the  Atterburys  were  detaining 
you  until  another  reverse  to  the  Union  arms  should  convince 
you  of  the  uselessness  of  remaining  in  the  service  of  the  abo- 
litionists." 

"  O  Polly,  it  must  be  a  joke !  They  little  know  me,  who 
could  suspect  me  of  such  dishonor  !  Surely  the  Atterburys 
can't  think  me  so  base  as  that.  What  have  I  ever  done  to 
justify  such  a  stigma  ? " 

"  You  wrong  them  there.  They  hold  that  you  are  want- 
ing in  loyalty  to  our  father's  memory  in  espousing  the  cause 
of  men  who  were  his  enemies — men  who  strove  to  ruin  his 
political  life.  It  is  in  being  a  soldier  of  the  Union  that  they 
look  upon  you  as  recreant  to  the  traditions  of  your  family 
and  your  party." 

"  Well,  I  shall  make  a  hard  struggle  for  escape.  If  I  fail, 
they  will  at  least  see  that  I  am  in  earnest — that  I  put  coun- 
try before  family  or  party,  or  anything  else  that  men  hold 
dear.  Heavens !  to  think  of  being  held  in  such  bondage !  I 
could  stand  it  writh  more  patience  if  I  were  in  prison  sharing 
the  hard  lines  of  the  fellows.  But  to  be  here;  to  be  hand 
in  glove  with  these  boasting,  audacious  coxcombs,  and  forced 
to  listen  to  their  callow  banter  of  us  and  our  army,  it 
makes  me  feel  like  a  sneak  and  a  traitor,  and  I'm  glad  that 
I  see  the  end." 

"  But  do  you  see  the  end  ?  Prudence  is  one  of  the  wisest 
counselors  in  war.  You  are  very  rash,  and  you  must  take 
all  your  measures  carefully.  It  won't  do  to  rush  into  a  trap, 
as  you  did  at  Manassas ;  and,  O  Jack,  what  is  to  become  of 
Dick  ?  He  is  not  in  the  lists.  He  has  no  standing  here,  and 
is  at  the  mercy  of  any  one  who  chooses  to  accuse  him  of  be- 
ing a  spy." 

"  By  George,  you're  right  !  I  hadn't  thought  of  that. 
He  must  go  with  me.  I  had  thought  it  better  to  leave  him. 
He  is  so  happy  with  Rosa  that  I  fancied  he  would  remain 
contentedly  until  the  war  ends.  But  he  is  in  constant  dan- 


A   CARPET-KNIGHT.  253 

ger.  He  is  forever  tantalizing  the  people  that  visit  the 
house,  who  make  slighting  allusions  to  the  Northern  armies, 
and  very  likely  some  rebel  patriot  will  take  the  trouble  to 
inquire  about  him." 

"  But  even  if  this  were  not  a  peril,  he  would  never  con- 
sent to  remain  here  if  you  were  gone.  I  think  he  would 
give  up  Rosa  rather  than  be  separated  from  you." 

"  Yes,  the  impulsive  little  beggar,  I  believe  he  would," 
Jack  said,  his  eyes  glistening.  "  That  will  compel  us  to  take 
him  into  the  secret.  In  fact,  I  don't  see  how  it  can  be  man- 
aged without  him;  and  then  his  testimony  would  convict 
the  prisoners.  I  hadn't  thought  of  that.  But  now,  Polly, 
about  yourself.  What's  to  become  of  you  ? " 

"  I  have  my  plans  laid.  Mrs.  Myrason,  the  wife  of  one 
of  Johnston's  generals,  is  going  to  the  front  next  week. 
I  shall  insist  to-night  on  accompanying  her,  as  some  of  our 
physicians  are  going  to  be  sent  through  the  lines  at  the  same 
time.  There  is  really  no  reason  for  my  remaining  here, 
now  that  you  are  well.  I  have  already  broached  the  subject 
to  Mrs.  Atterbury,  and  I  shall  inform  her  at  once  that  I  am 
decided.  She  will  not  suspect  anything,  as  she  knew  I  was 
half -tempted  to  go  North  when  mamma  went.  The  impor- 
tant thing  for  you,  now,  is  to  give  your  whole  mind  to  the 
rescue,  and  have  no  fears  for  me.  If  you  can  convince  Dick 
to  go  with  you,  all  will  be  well.  If  he  proves  obstinate,  hand 
him  over  to  me."  Jack  laughed. 

"  Polly,  you  should  have  been  the  first-born  of  the  house 
of  Sprague;  you  have  twice  the  sense  that  I  have." 

''  It  isn't  sense  that  wins  in  war;  it  is  daring  and  resolu- 
tion, and  you  have  all  that." 

When  Jack  had  cautiously  laid  the  situation  before  his 
young  Patroclus,  that  precocious  warrior  at  once  justified 
the  confidence  reposed  in  him. 

"  Rosa  has  promised  to  marry  me  as  soon  as  the  war  is 
over.  She  can't  expect  me  to  hang  around  here  like  a  peg- 
top  on  a  string.  Besides,  I  wouldn't  stay  where  you  are  not, 
Jacko,  even  if  I  lost  my  sweetheart  for  good  and  all." 

There  was  a  piteous  quaver  in  the  treble  voice,  and,  for- 


254  THE   IRON   GAME. 

getting  that  he  was  no  longer  a  school-boy,  he  brushed  his 
eyes  furtively  with  his  coat-sleeve,  as  Jack  pretended  pre- 
occupation with  his  shoe-string. 

"  You're  a  brick,  Dick.  I  think  I  have  confided  that  to 
you  before — but  you  are  a  brick,  made  of  the  best  straw  in 
the  field  of  life,  and  you  shall  be  a  general  one  of  these 
days — your  shrill  voice  shall  let  slip  the  dogs  of  war  and 
cry  havoc  to  the  eneruy.  You  shall  return  to  Acredale — 
proud  Acredale — your  brows  bound  with  victorious  wreaths, 
and  all  the  small  boys  perched  011  the  spreading  oaks  to  sa- 
lute you." 

%'I  think  I  have  heard  something  like  that  before,  my 
blarneying  Plantagenet.  You  shall  be  the  Percy  of  the 
North,  and  command  the  great  battle.  You  shall  meet  and 
vanquish  fifty  Harrys,  and  cry, '  God  for  Union,  liberty,  and 
the  laws.' " 

"  Bravo !  You  know  your  Shakespeare  if  you  don't  know 
prudence.  However,  we're  plotters  now,  and  you  must  take 
on  your  wisest  humor.  You  must  not  breathe  a  word  to 
Rosa.  Love  is  a  freebooter  in  confidences.  It  has  no  con- 
science, as  it  has  no  law.  It  is  an  immense  friction  on  the 
sober  relations  of  life.  It  is  cousin  to  the  god  of  lies — Mer- 
cury. So  be  warned  that  while  your  heart  is  Rosa's  your 
reason's  your  country's,  your  friends',  and  you  have  a  chance 
now  to  employ  it  to  the  profit  of  both !  You  must  be  ready 
to  evade  Rosa's  infinite  questioning  with  innocent  plausibili- 
ties, for  you  must  bear  in  mind  that,  however  much  she  may 
love  you,  she,  like  you,  loves  her  cause,  her  people — more, 
in  fact,  for  you  have  seen  that  these  passionate  Southerners 
have  made  a  religion  of  the  war,  and,  like  all  enthusiasts, 
they  will  go  any  lengths,  deny  all  ties;  glory,  faith,  in 
personal  sacrifices  and  heart-wrenchings,  to  make  the  South 
triumph.  So,  without  being  false  to  your  love,  you  must 
deceive,  to  be  true  to  your  country ;  for  to  lull  love's  suspi- 
cions a  man  must  regulate  the  two  currents  of  his  life,  the 
heart  and  brain.  Keep  the  heart  in  check  and  let  the  brain 
vule  in  such  affairs  as  we  have  on  hand." 

"Phew  Jack!  you  talk  like  a  college  professor.     You're 


A   CARPET-KNIGHT.  255 

deeper  than  a  well ;  and  what  was  the  other  thing  Mercutio 
said  ? " 

"  Ah  !  Mercutio  said  so  much  that  Shakespeare  got  fright- 
ened and  let  Tybalt  kill  him.  So  beware  of  saying  too  much. 
That's  your  great  danger,  Dick;  your  tongue  is  terrible — 
mostly  to  your  friends." 

"Is  it,  indeed  ?    I  have  a  friend  who  doesn't  think  so." 

"  No,  because  she  considers  your  tongue  part  of  herself 
now." 

"  I  don't  see  why  she  should ;  she  has  enough  of  her  own. " 

"In  wooing-time  no  woman  ever  had  enough  tongue." 

"  How  changed  you  are  from  what  you  were  at  Acredale, 
Jack !  I  never  heard  you  talk  so  deep  and  bookish." 

"  I  had  no  need  at  Acredale,  Dick.  There  I  was  a  boy- 
lived  as  a  boy,  romped  as  a  boy,  and  loved  boyish  things. 
But  a  man  ripens  swiftly  in  war — you  yourself  have.  You 
are  no  longer  the  mischief-maker  and  torn-boy  that  terrified 
your  family  and  set  the  gossips  agog  in  the  dear  old  village. 
Mind  broadens  swiftly  in  war.  That  one  dreadful  day  at 
Bull  Run  enlarged  my  faculties,  or  trained  them  rather,  as 
much  as  a  course  in  college.  Something  very  serious  came 
into  my  life  that  day.  It  had  its  effect  on  you  too.  It  fairly 
revolutionized  Vint ;  we  may  not  have  exactly  put  away 
boyishness  and  boyish  things— please  God,  I  hope  to  be  a 
boy  many  a  year  yet — but  we  have  been  made  to  think  as 
men,  act  as  men,  and  realize  that  there  are  consequences 
and  responsibilities  in  life  such  as  we  could  not  have  real- 
ized in  ten  years  in  time  of  peace." 

Dick  listened  during  this  solemn  comedy  of  immature 
doctrinal  induction,  his  eyes  dilating  with  wonder  and  ad- 
miration. Jack,  in  the  rdle  of  sage,  delighted  him,  and  he 
straightway  confided  to  Rosa  that  he  couldn't  understand 
how  any  girl  could  love  another  man  while  Jack  was  to  be 
had. 

"  He's  so  clever,  so  brave,  so  manly.  He  knows  so  much, 
and  yet  never  takes  the  trouble  to  let  any  one  see  it.  Ah, 
Rosa,  I  wish  I  were  like  Jack  ! " 

"  I  think  Jack's  very  nice,  but  I  know  somebody  that's 
17 


256  THE   IRON   GAME. 

much  nicer,"  Rosa  replied,  busy  with  a  rough  material  that 
was  plainly  intended  for  the  Southern  warriors. 

"  Ah  !  but  if  you  really  knew  all  about  Jack,  you  wouldn't 
look  at  anybody  else,"  Dick  cried,  pensively,  tangling  his 
long  legs  in  the  young  girl's  work. 

"There,  you  clumsy  fellow;  you've  ruined  this  seam,  and 
I  must  get  this  work  done  before  noon.  We're  all  going  to 
the  provost  prison  to  take  garments  to  the  recruits.  You 
may  come  if  you'll  be  very  good  and  help  me  with  these 
supplies." 

"  May  I  ?  I  will  sew  on  the  buttons.  Oh,  you  think  I 
can't?  Just  give  me  a  needle."  And  sure  enough  Dick, 
gravely  arming  himself  from  the  store  in  Rosa's  "catch- 
all,"  set  to  fastening  the  big  buttons  as  composedly  as  if  he 
had  been  brought  up  in  a  tailor's  shop.  It  was  in  this  sar- 
torial industry  that  Jack,  coming  in,  presently  discovered 
the  pair. 

"  You've  turned  Dick  into  a  seamstress,  have  you,  Rosa- 
lind ?  You're  an  amazing  little  magician.  Dick's  sewing 
heretofore  has  been  of  the  common  boy-sort — wild  oats." 

"No,  Mr.  Jack,  I'm  no  magician.  Dick  is  a  very  sensible 
fellow,  and,  like  Richelieu  in  the  play,  he  ekes  out  the  lion's 
skin  with  the  fox's." 

"  I  didn't  come  to  add  to  the  stores  of  your  wisdom.  This 
is  the  day  set,  as  I  understand  it,  for  us  to  go  to  the  prison 
and  relieve  the  distress  of  the  victims  of  war.  Do  I  under- 
stand that  we,  Dick  and  I,  are  to  go  and  have  our  patriotic 
hearts  torn  by  the  sight  of  woes  that  fortune,  in  the  shape  of 
the  Atterburys,  keeps  us  from  ? " 

"  Of  course  you  are.  We  couldn't  think  of  going  with- 
out you.  There,  my  work  is  done.  We'll  have  lunch  and 
then  start,"  Rosa  said,  rising  and  directing  Dick  to  fill  the 
large  wicker  basket  with  the  garments. 

Fashion  and  idleness  make  strange  pastimes.  The  recre- 
ation to  which  Jack  and  Dick  were  bidden  was  a  visit  to  the 
melancholy  shambles  where  the  heterogeneous  mass  of  un- 
classified prisoners  were  detained.  It  was  a  long,  gabled 
building  on  the  bf  jik  of  the  river,  from  whose  low,  grated 


A  CARPET-KXIGIIT.  257 

windows  the  culprits  could  catch  glimpses  of  the  James,  tum- 
bling over  its  sedgy,  sometimes  rocky  bed.  A  few  yards 
from  it  arose  the  grim  walls  of  what  had  been  a  tobacco-fac- 
tory, now  the  never-to-be  forgotten  Libby  Prison. 

It  was  an  animated  and  curious  group  that  made  up 
Jack's  party.  They  were  piloted  by  a  young  aide  on  the  staff 
of  General  Lee,  and,  as  his  entire  mind  was  engrossed  in 
making  his  court  to  Rosa,  the  pilgrims  were  given  the  widest 
latitude  for  investigation.  On  the  lower  tier  he  pointed  out 
the  cells  of  the  Rosedale  prisoners,  where,  as  you  may  im- 
agine, Jack  and  Dick,  without  giving  a  sign,  kept  their  wits 
alert.  Jones — the  "  most  desperate  of  the  conspirators  again  st 
the  President,  the  special  agent  of  Butler" — was  in  a  cell  by 
himself,  constantly  guarded  by  a  sentinel. 

kl  This,  Sprague,"  said  the  young  aide,  lowering  his  voice 
as  he  came  abreast  of  Jones's  cell,  "  is  the  man  the  Govern- 
ment has  the  strongest  proof  against.  He  is  proved  to  have 
come  into  our  lines  from  the  Warwick  River,  to  have  man- 
aged to  escape  from  Castle  Thunder,  and  to  have  led  the  mis- 
creants to  Rosedale.  Your  own  and  young  Perley's  testi- 
mony after  that  will  swing  him  higher  than  a  spy  was  ever 
swung  before. " 

These  words,  begun  in  a  low  tone,  were  made  clearer 
and  louder  by  the  sudden  cessation  of  chatter  among  the 
visiting  group.  Jones,  who  seemed  to  have  come  to  his 
grating  when  the  suppressed  laughter  sounded  in  the  dark 
corridor,  heard  every  word  of  the  official's  speech.  He  was 
no  longer  the  bearded  desperado  Jack  had  seen  in  the  m$Ue 
at  Rosedale — there  was  a  certain  distinction  in  the  poise  of 
the  head,  an  inborn  gentility  in  the  impassive  contemplation 
with  which  he  met  the  furtive  scrutiny  of  the  curious  vis- 
itors. Jack  he  eyed  with  something  of  surprise,  but  when 
Dick  pushed  suddenly  in  front  of  the  timorous  group  of 
young  women,  he  started,  changed  color,  and  averted  his 
face ;  then,  as  if  suddenly  recalling  himself,  turned  and  de- 
voured the  lad  with  a  strange,  yearning  tenderness.  Dick 
met  the  gaze  with  his  habitual  easy  gayety,  and,  turning  to 
Jack,  said,  impulsively: 


258  THE   IRON   GAME. 

"  I  should  never  recognize  this  man  as  the  bandit  who 
fired  the  shot  that  night — are  you  really  the  Jones  that 
choked  and  wounded  me  at  Rosedale  ? "  Dick  advanced 
quite  close  to  the  wicket  as  he  asked  this. 

"  And  who  may  you  be,  if  I  am  permitted  to  ask  a  ques- 
tion ? "  the  prisoner  replied  vaguely,  all  the  time  devouring 
the  boy  with  his  dilating  eyes. 

''  I  am  Richard  Perley,  of  Acredale,  a  soldier  of  the  Union 
and  a  friend  of  all  who  suffer  in  its  cause."  Dick  murmured 
the  last  words  so  low  that  the  group  of  visitors  did  not  catch 
them,  and,  adding  to  them  an  emphasis  of  the  eye  that  the 
prisoner  seemed  too  agitated  to  notice,  he  continued,  as  Jack 
pushed  nearer:  ''This  is  certainly  not  the  man  we  saw  at 
Rosedale.  But  I  have  seen  you  somewhere.  Tell  me,  have 
I  not?" 

"  I  can  tell  you  nothing — I — I — "  As  he  said  this  Jones 
backed  against  the  wall.  The  guard  sprang  forward  in 
alarm.  The  women,  of  course,  cried  out  in  many  keys, 
most  of  them  skurrying  away  toward  the  staircase. 

"  Water  ! "  Jack  cried.  u  Guard,  have  you  no  water 
handy?" 

"No,  sir;  the  canteen  was  broken,  and  there  is  none 
nearer  than  the  guard-room." 

"  Run  and  get  some.  I  will  see  that  the  prisoner  does 
not  get  out.  Run ! " 

The  aide  had  gallantly  gone  forward  in  the  passage  to  re- 
assure the  ladies,  and  Jack,  seizing  the  chance,  for  which  the 
prisoner  seemed  to  be  prepared,  whispered : 

"  Here  is  an  auger,  a  chisel,  and  a  knife.  Secrete  them. 
Work  straight  out  under  your  window.  We  shall  be  ready 
for  you  by  Wednesday  night.  Don't  fail  to  give  a  signal 
if  anything  happens  that  prevents  your  cutting  through. 
There  is  only  an  old  stone  wall  between  you  and  the  river. 
You  must  take  precautions  against  the  water,  if  it  is  high 
enough  to  reach  your  cut." 

Jones  played  his  part  admirably.  He  remained  limp 
and  stolid  in  the  supporting  arms  of  Jack,  while  Dick,  hov- 
ering in  the  doorway,  kept  the  prying  remnant  of  the  visit- 


A  CARPET-KMGHT.  259 

ors,  eager  to  witness  the  scene,  at  a  safe  distance.  When 
the  water  came  Jack  yielded  his  place  to  the  guard  and  the 
party  moved  on. 

"  Here  we  have  a  real  Yankee,  a  regular  nutmeg,"  the 
young  aide  cried,  as  the  party  came  to  a  room  not  far  from 
Jones's.  "  This  youngster  was  one  of  the  chief  devils  in  the 
attack  on  Rosedale.  The  judge-advocate  has  tried  every 
means  to  coax  a  confession  from  him,  but  without  result. 
He  is  as  gay  as  a  bridegroom,  and  answers  all  threats  with  a 
joke." 

"  Ah !  the  old  Barney  under  all,"  Jack  said,  half  sadly. 

"  Do  you  know  him,  Mr.  Sprague  ? " 

"  Like  a  brother.     He  is  from  my  town." 

"  Ah,  perhaps  you  can  convince  him  that  his  best  course 
is  open  confession  ? " 

"No,  I  fear  not.  He  is  very  headstrong,  and  would 
rather  have  his  joke  on  the  gibbet  than  own  himself  in  the 
wrong." 

u  But,  Mr.  Jack,  if  you  should  talk  to  him,  show  him  the 
wickedness  of  conspiring  against  a  peaceful  family,  inciting 
a  servile  race  to  murder,  I'm  sure  you  could  move  him,  and 
it  would  be  such  a  comfort  to  have  the  criminals  them- 
selves expose  the  atrocious  plot." 

This  was  said  by  Miss  Delmayne,  a  niece  of  Mrs.  Gannat. 
Jack  caught  her  eye  as  she  spoke,  and  instantly  realized  the 
covert  meaning.  How  stupid  he  had  been !  Of  course,  Bar- 
ney must  be  apprised  of  the  rescue,  and  what  time  more  pro- 
pitious than  the  present  ?  But,  unfortunately,  he  had  not 
provided  himself  with  the  tools  for  the  emergency.  What 
could  be  done  ?  He  suddenly  remembered  a  bayonet  he  had 
seen  near  the  guard-room.  It  was  lying  unnoticed  on  the 
bench. 

"  I  must  have  a  drink  before  I  answer  a  plea  so  urgent. 
Amuse  the  prisoner  while  I  slake  my  thirst." 

Barney  was  lying  at  the  far  end  of  the  narrow,  boarded 
cage.  He  raised  his  head  as  the  group  halted  before  his 
door,  but  gave  no  sign  of  interest  as  this  dialogue  was  car- 
ried on  : 


280  THE   IRON   GAME. 

"Prisoner,"  said  the  aide,  magisterially,  "come  to  the 
door." 

"  Jailer,  what  shall  I  come  to  the  door  for  ? "  Barney 
mimicked  indolently. 

"Because  I  bid  you,  sir." 

"Not  a  reason  in  law,  sir." 

"  I'll  have  the  guard  haul  you  here." 

"  Then  he'll  have  a  mighty  poor  haul,  as  King  James 
said  when  he  caught  the  Orange  troopers  in  the  Boyne." 

"  I'll  teach  you,  sir,  to  defy  a  commissioned  officer  ! " 

"  I've  learned  that  already;  but  if  you're  a  school-teacher 
I'll  decline  the  verb  '  will '  for  you." 

"  Guard,  hustle  that  beast  forward." 

" Guard,  don't  give  yourself  the  trouble."  And  Barney 
arose  nimbly  and  came  to  the  grating.  "  O  captain,  dear, 
why  didn't  ye  tell  me  there  were  ladies  here  ?  You  could 
have  spared  your  eloquence  and  your  authority  if  you  had 
tould  me  that  the  star  of  beauty,  the  smile  of  angels,  the — " 

"  Never  mind,  sir  ;  be  respectful,  and  wait  till  you're 
spoken  to." 

"  Then,  captain,  dear,  do  you  profit  by  your  own  advice  ; 
let  the  ladies  talk.  I'm  all  ears,  as  the  rabbit  said  to  the 
weasel. " 

But  at  this  interesting  point  of  the  combat  Jack  returned, 
and,  pushing-to  the  door,  cried,  as  if  in  surprise,  "  Hello, 
Barney,  boy,  what  are  you  doing  here  ? " 

"  Diverting  the  ladies,  Jack,  dear,  and  giving  the  captain 
a  chance  to  practice  command,  for  fear  he'll  not  get  a  show 
in  battle."  The  roar  that  saluted  this  retort  subdued  the 
bumptious  cavalier,  and  he  affected  deep  interest  in  the 
whispered .  questions  of  one  of  the  young  women  in  the  rear 
of  the  group. 

"  You're  the  same  old  Barney.  Marc  Anthony  gave  up 
the  world  for  a  kiss,  you'd  capitulate  a  kingdom  for  a  joke," 
Jack  said,  striving  to  catch  Barney's  eye  and  warn  him  to 
be  prudent. 

"  Well,  Jack,  dear,  between  the  joke  and  the  kiss,  I  think 
I'd  go  out  of  the  world  better  satisfied  with  the  kiss  ;  at  all 


A   CARPET-KNIGHT.  261 

events,  it  wouldn't  be  dacent  to  say  less  with  so  many  red 
lips  forninst  me,"  and  Barney  winked  untold  admiration  at 
the  laughing  group  before  him,  all  plainly  delighted  with 
his  conquest  of  the  captain. 

"  But,  Barney,  you  should  be  thinking  of  more  serious 
things." 

"Sure  I've  thought  of  nothing  else  for  three  months. 
The  trees  can't  go  naked  all  the  year  ;  the  brook  can't  keep 
ice  on  it  in  summer  ;  the  swan  sings  before  it  dies  ;  the 
grasshopper  whirrs  loudest  when  its  grave  is  ready.  Why 
shouldn't  I  have  me  joke  when  I've  had  nothing  but  hard 
knocks,  loneliness,  and  the  company  of  the  prison  for  half 
the  year  ? " 

"  Poor  fellow  !  "  Rosa  murmured  in  Dick's  ear,  who  had 
not  trusted  himself  in  sight  of  his  old  comrade.  "  I  don't 
believe  he's  a  bad  man  ;  I  don't  believe  he  came  to  our  house. 
Oh  !  pray,  Mr.  Jack,  do  talk  with  him.  Encourage  him  to 
be  frank,  and  we  will  get  Mr.  Davis  to  pardon  him." 

"  Pardon,  is  it,  me  dear?  Sure  there's  no  pardon  could 
be  as  sweet  as  your  honest  e'en — God  be  good  to  ye ! — an'  if 
I  were  Peter  after  the  third  denial  of  me  Maker,  your  sweet 
lips  would  drag  the  truth  from  me !  What  is  it  you  would 
have  me  tell  ? " 

"The  captain,  here,  desires  me  to  talk  with  you.  He 
thinks  that  perhaps  I  can  convince  you  of  the  wiser  course 
to  follow,"  Jack  said,  with  a  meaning  light  in  his  eye. 

"Oh,  if  that's  what's  wanted,  I  will  listen  to  you  'till 
yer  arms  give  out,  as  Judy  McMoyne  said,  when  Teddy 
tould  his  love.  I  promise,  in  advance,  to  do  what  you 
advise." 

''I  knew  you  would,"  Jack  said,  approvingly. — "Now, 
captain,  if  you  can  give  me  five  minutes — ' 

The  captain  beckoned  the  guard,  whispered  a  moment, 
and  then  said,  exultingly : 

"  The  guard  will  stand  in  the  passage  until  you  have  fin- 
ished with  the  prisoner.  We  shall  await  you  in  the  porch." 

"  Now,  Barney,  I  must  be  brief,  and  you  must  not  lose  a 
syllable  I  say.  Here,  sit  on  the  cot,  so  that  I  may  slip  this 


262  THE   IROX   GAME. 

bayonet  under  the  blanket.  You  can  work  through  this 
wall  with  that.  You  must  do  it  to-night  and  to-morrow. 
Be  ready  Thursday  at  daylight.  You  will  be  met  on  the  out- 
side either  by  Dick  or  myself.  We  have  the  route  all  ar- 
ranged, and  friends  in  many  places  to  lull  suspicion." 

"  But  I  won't  stir  a  foot  without  Jones.  Do  you  know 
who  he  is?"  Barney  whispered,  eying  Jack  curiously. 

"  No  other  than  that  he  seems  a  very  desperate  devil-may- 
care  fellow.  Who  is  he? " 

"  An  agent  and  crony  of  Boone's." 

"Good  God!" 

"  It's  a  long  story.  I  can't  tell  it  now,  but  if  your  plan 
takes  him  in,  I'm  ready,  and  will  be  on  hand." 

"  I  have  seen  him,  and  have  given  him  better  tools  than 
I  have  brought  you  for  the  work. " 

"  That's  all  right.  I  ask  nothing  better  than  the  bayonet. 
The  other  fellows  that  got  out  of  Libby  didn't  have  nearly 
so  good." 

"You  know  how  I  am  fixed  here.  I  have  grown  tired  of 
this  sort  of  hostage  life,  and  I  am  going  North  with  you.  So, 
Barney,  I  beg  of  you  to  be  careful,  for  other  lives  than  your 
own  are  at  stake.  I  should  be  specially  hateful  to  the  au- 
thorities if  I  were  retaken— for  the  whole  Southern  people 
clamor  to  have  an  example  made  of  the  assassins  of  the 
President,  as  they  call  you." 

"Don't  fear,  Jack  ;  I'll  be  quiet  as  a  sucking  pig  in 
starlight.  I'll  be  yer  shadow  and  never  open  me  mouth, 
even  if  a  jug,  big  as  Teddy  Fin's  praty-patch,  stud  fur- 
ninst  me!" 

"  It  isn't  your  tongue  I'm  so  much  afraid  of  as  your  pro- 
pensity to  combat.  You  must  resist  that  delight  of  yours — 
whacking  stray  heads  and  flourishing  your  big  fists." 

"  My  fists,  is  it?  Then  I'll  engage  to  keep  them  still  as 
O'Connell's  legs  in  Pho3nix  Square." 

"  Now,  I  shall  report  that  you  are  considering  my  advice. 
You  must  be  very  gentle  and  placating  to  the  guard,  and  let 
on  that  you  have  something  on  your  mind." 

"  Indeed,  I  needn't  let  on  at  all.     I  have  as  much  on  me 


ALL'S   FAIR   IN    LOVE   AND   WAR.  263 

mind  as  Biddy  McGinniss  had  on  her  back  when  she  carried 
Mick  home  from  the  gallows." 

"  O  Barney,  Barney,  you  would  joke  if  the  halter  were 
ahout  your  neck ! " 

"An'  why  wouldn't  I,  me  bye?  What  chance  would  I 
have  if  I  didn't?  I  couldn't  joke  when  I  was  dead,  could  I? " 

"Well,  well,  think  over  what  I've  said,  and  remember 
that  penitence  half  absolves  guilt." 

This  was  said  for  the  benefit  of  the  guard,  who  had  ap- 
proached as  Jack  arose  to  take  his  leave. 


CHAPTER   XXIII. 

ALL'S  FAIR  IN  LOVE  AND  WAR. 

OPPORTUNITY  is  an  instinct  to  the  man  who  dares.  To 
him  the  law  of  the  impossible  has  no  meaning.  To  him 
there  is  no  such  thing  as  the  unexpected.  What  he  wants 
comes  to  pass,  because  he  can  not  see  danger,  difficulty, 
nor  any  of  the  obstacles  that  daunt  the  prudent  and  the  tem- 
porizing. It  is,  therefore,  the  impossible  that  is  fulfilled  in 
many  of  the  crises  of  life.  By  the  same  token  it  is  the  fool- 
hardy and  preposterous  thing  that  is  most  readily  done  in 
determinate  conjunctures.  We  guard  against  the  possible, 
but  we  take  little  note  of  the  enterprises  that  involve  fool- 
hardiness  or  desperation.  Daring  has  safeguards  of  its  own 
that  are  understood  only  when  mad  ventures  have  come  to 
successful  issue.  Helpless  and  hopeless  as  Jack's  situation 
seemed,  the  very  poverty  of  his  resources,  helped  the  daring 
scheme  of  escape  that  filled  his  mind  night  and  day  during 
these  apparently  indolent  weeks  of  pleasuring  in  the  ranks 
of  his  enemies.  Then,  too,  the  arrogant  self-confidence  of 
his  captors  was  an  inestimable  aid.  Military  discipline  and 
provost  vigilance  were  at  their  slackest  stage  in  the  rebel 
lines  at  this  triumphant  epoch  in  the  fortunes  of  the  Con- 


264:  THE   IRON   GAME. 

feieracy.  The  easily  won  combat  at  Bull  Run  had  filled 
trie  authorities — as  well  as  the  rank  and  file — with  over- 
weening contempt  for  the  resources  of  the  North,  or  the  en- 
terprise of  its  soldiers.  It  was  not  until  long  after  the  time 
I  am  now  writing  about,  that  the  prisoners  were  closely 
guarded  and  access  refused  to  the  idle  and  curious.  But,  as 
a  matter  of  fact,  nothing  in  the  fortunes  of  our  friends 
equals  the  truth  of  the  thrilling  and  desperate  chances  taken 
by  Northern  captives  to  escape  the  lingering  death  of  prison 
in  the  South.  Since  the  war,  volumes  have  been  written  of 
personal  experience,  amply  attested,  that  would  in  romance 
receive  the  derisive  mark  of  the  critics.  Danger  daily  met 
becomes  a  commonplace  to  men  of  resolution.  Things  which 
appall  us  when  we  read  them  become  a  simple  part  of  our 
purpose  when  we  live  in  an  atmosphere  of  peril  and  put  our 
hope  only  in  ending  the  ordeal. 

The  incidents  I  am  narrating  were  the  work  of  many 
hands.  Mrs.  Gannat  had  from  the  first  given  her  heart  to  the 
Union  cause.  A  woman  of  high  standing  in  society,  well 
known  throughout  the  State  for  her  mind,  her  manners,  and 
her  benevolence,  it  was  not  difficult  for  her,  by  adroit  man- 
agement, to  aid  such  prisoners  as  fell  into  rebel  hands  dur- 
ing the  early  years  of  the  war.  Before  Richmond  became  a 
mart  in  the  modern  sense,  the  Gannat  mansion,  set  far  back 
among  the  trees  of  a  noble  grove,  was  a  shrine  to  the  tradi- 
tion-loving citizens,  for,  beyond  any  Southern  city,  save  per- 
haps New  Orleans,  Richmond  folk  cherished  the  memory 
of  aristocratic  and  semi-regal  ancestors.  There  were  those 
still  living  when  the  war  began,  who  had  heard  their  fathers 
and  mothers  talk  of  the  last  royal  Governor  and  the  splen- 
did state  of  the  great  noblemen  who  had  flocked  to  the  city 
of  Powhatan  when  Virginia  was  the  gem  of  England's  colo- 
nial coronet.  The  patrician  caste  of  the  city  still  held  its 
own,  aided  by  the  helot  hand  of  slavery.  Among  the  most 
reverently  considered  in  this  sanctified  group,  Mrs.  Gannat 
was,  if  not  first,  the  conceded  equal.  She  was  the  dowager 
of  the  ancient  noblesse.  The  young  Virginian  received  in 
her  drawing-rooms  carried  away  a  distinction  which  was 


ALL'S   FAIR   IN    LOVE   AND   WAR.  265. 

recognized  throughout  the  State.  The  dame  admitted  to 
Mrs.  Gannat's  semi-literary  levees  was  accepted  as  all  that 
society  demanded  of  its  votaries. 

In  other  years  this  great  lady  had  been  the  admired 
center  of  the  court  circle  in  Washington.  There  she  had 
known  very  intimately  Senator  —  then  Congressman  — 
Sprague.  Jack  remembered  vaguely  the  gossip  of  an  en- 
gagement between  his  father  and  a  famous  Southern  beauty ; 
and  when  the  lady  in  the  course  of  the  conspiring  said,  as 
they  talked,  u  My  son,  I  might  have  been  your  mother,"  he 
knew  that  this  gentle-voiced,  kindly-eyed  matron  was  the 
woman  his  father  had  loved  and  lost.  I  don't  propose  to 
rehearse  the  ingenuities  of  the  complicated  plans  whereby 
the  group  we  are  interested  in  were  to  be  delivered.  Mrs. 
Gannat's  perfect  knowledge  of  the  city,  her  intimacy  with 
the  President,  Cabinet,  and  leading  men,  her  vogue  with  the 
officials,  all  tended  to  make  very  simple  and  easy  that  which 
would  seem  in  the  telling  hare-brained  and  impossible. 
Jack's  unique  position,  and  Dick's  attitude  of  the  half- 
acknowledged  fiance  of  an  Atterbury,  broke  down  bars  that 
even  Mrs.  Gannat's  far-reaching  sagacity  might  not  have 
been  able  to  cope  with  in  certainty.  The  night  chosen  for 
the  escape  was  fatefully  propitious.  The  President  was  en- 
tertaining the  newly  arrived  French  delegate  and  the  min- 
isters Mason  and  Slidell,  just  appointed  to  the  courts  of  St. 
James  and  the  Tuileries.  Everybody  that  was  anybody  was 
of  the  splendid  company. 

Jack,  however,  was  tortured  by  a  doubt  of  Dick's  con- 
stancy when  it  came  to  an  abrupt  quitting  of  his  sweetheart. 
Poor  lad,  he  fought  the  battle  bravely,  making  no  sign ;  and 
when  Rosa,  the  picture  of  demure  loveliness,  in  her  girlish 
finery,  asked  him  maliciously  as  the  carriage  drove  toward 
the  Executive  Mansion —  . 

"  Don't  you  feel  like  a  traitor,  you  sly  Yankee  ? "  Dick 
gave  a  great  groan  and  said : 

"  O  Rosa,  Rosa,  I  can't  go  !  I  do  feel  like  a  traitor.  I  am 
a  ti'aitor." 

Jack,  luckily,  was  sitting  beside  him,  and  brought  his 


266  TUB   IKON   GAME. 

heel  down  on  the  lad's  toes  with  such  emphasis  that  he 
uttered  a  cry  of  pain.  Rosa  was  all  solicitude  at  this. 

"  What  is  it,  Richard ;  have  I  wounded  you  ?  Don't  mind 
my  chatter  ;  I  only  do  it  to  tease  you.  He  shall  he  a  Yan- 
kee; he  shall  make  nutmegs;  he  shall  abuse  the  chivalrous 
South;  he  shall  be  what  he  likes;  he  sha'n't  be  teased—" 
and  she  wound  her  bare  arms  about  his  neck,  quite  indiffer- 
ent to  the  reproving  nudges  of  mamma  and  the  sad  mirth- 
fulness  of  Jack. 

Dick  found  means  in  the  noise  of  the  chariot,  and  tbe 
crush  they  presently  came  into,  for  saying  something  that 
seemed  to  lessen  the  self -reproachful  tone  of  the  penitent, 
and,  when  they  entered  the  modest  portals  of  the  presidency, 
Rosa  was  radiant  and  Dick  equable,  but  not  in  his  usual 
chattering  volubility. 

"  You  are  sure  you  do  not  repent  ?  You  can  stay  if  you 
choose,"  Jack  said,  as  they  entered  the  dressing-room. 

"Where  you  go,  I  go;  what  you  say  is  right  I  know  is 
right,  and  I  will  do  it."  Dick  looked  away  confusedly  as  he 
said  this.  They  were  surrounded  by  young  officers,  all  of 
whom  the  two  young  men  knew. 

"Ah,  ha,  Mr.  Perley  !  I  have  stolen  a  march  on  you;  I 
have  secured  the  first  waltz  from  Miss  Rosa,"  a  young  man 
at  the  mirror  cried,  as  Dick  adjusted  his  gloves. 

"  Then,  Captain  Warrick,  I'm  likely  to  be  a  wall-flower, 
for  the  second,  third,  and  fourth  were  promised  yesterday." 

"  Fortunes  of  war,  my  dear  fellow — fortunes  of  war. 
You  must  lay  siege  to  another  fortress." 

"Dick,"  Jack  whispered,  "  it's  an  omen.  It  will  give  us 
time  to  slip  out  and  .change  our  garments  without  the  dan- 
ger of  excuses,  for,  though  nothing  is  suspected,  any  incau- 
tious phrase  may  destroy  us." 

"  Don't  fear  for  me.  I  shall  be  prudent  as  a  confessor. 
We  can't  go,  however,  just  yet.  I  must  have  a  little  talk 
with  Rosa.  I  may  never  see  her  again.  If  you  were  in 
love  and  going  from  the  light  of  her  eye,  perhaps  never  to 
see  her  again,  you  wouldn't  be  so  cool.  We  must,  anyway, 
take  the  ladies  to  the  host  and  hostess  for  presentation ;  then 


ALL'S   FAIR   IN   LOVE   AND   WAR.  267 

a  few  words  and  I  am  ready."  Dick  was  trembling  visibly 
and  blushing  like  a  school-girl  at  first  facing  a  class-day 
crowd.  Jack's  heart  went  out  to  the  lad,  and  he  thought 
the  chances  about  even  that  when  the  moment  of  trial  came 
the  boy's  resolution  would  give  way.  The  ladies  were  wait- 
ing for  them  when  they  emerged  into  the  corridors — Rosa 
began,  prettily,  to  rally  Dick  on  his  tardiness.  It  took  time 
to  thread  the  constantly  increasing  crowd  in  the  hallways, 
the  corridors,  and  on  the  stairs,  but  they  finally  reached  the 
group  in  which  Mrs.  Davis  was  receiving  the  confused  salu- 
tations of  the  throng  at  the  drawing-room  door.  As  soon 
as  this  formality  was  ended,  Rosa  whisked  Dick  in  one 
direction  while  Mrs.  Atterbury  asked  Jack  to  take  her  to 
the  library.  Here,  by  a  happy  chance,  she  came  upon  a 
group  of  dowagers — friends  of  her  youth  from  other  towns 
— brought  to  the  capital  by  the  event,  or  their  husbands' 
official  duties  in  the  new  government.  Jack  bowed  low  as 
he  relinquished  the  good  lady's  arm,  feeling  as  if  he  were 
embarking  on  some  odious  treason,  in  view  of  her  persistent 
and  generous  treatment  of  him  and  his. 

"  Now  that  you  are  among  the  friends  of  your  youth,  I 
will  leave  you ;  who  knows  whether  I  shall  see  you  again  ? ;' 
he  faltered,  as  she  turned  an  affectionate  glance  upon 
him. 

"  Oh,  you  needn't  think  that  you  can  take  cong6  for  good, 
Jack.  I  may  want  to  dance  during  the  night.  If  I  do  I 
shall  certainly  lay  my  commands  upon  you.  You  may  de- 
vote yourself  to  the  young  people  now,  but  I  warn  you  I  am 
not  to  be  thrown  over  so  easily.  Besides,  I  want  to  present 
you  to  a  dozen  friends  that  you  have  not  yet  met  at  my 
house. " 

"  You  will  always  know  where  to  find  me ;  but  I  am  not 
so  sure  that  I  shall  be  as  able,  as  I  am  willing,  to  come  to 
you,"  Jack  said,  trembling  at  the  double  meaning  of  his 
words. 

"  Oh,  I  know  you're  dying  to  get  to  the  dancers." 

"  I  can  go  to  no  one  that  it  will  give  me  more  happiness 
to  please  than  you.  Indeed,  I'm  going  into  danger  when  I 


288  THE   IRON"   GAME. 

quit  you.  Give  me  your  blessing,  as  if  it  were  Vincent  go- 
ing to  the  wars. " 

She  had  turned  from  the  throng  of  ladies,  who  were  dis- 
cussing a  political  secret,  and  her  eyes  melted  tenderly  as 
Vincent's  name  passed  Jack's  lips.  She  touched  his  bowed 
head  gently,  saying: 

"  Why,  how  serious  you  are  !  One  would  think  beauty  a 
battery,  and  you  on  the  way  to  charge." 

"  You  are  right.     It  is  a  murderous  ambush." 

"Well,  if  you  regard  it  so  seriously — God  bless  you 
in  it." 

Her  gentle  eyes  rested  tenderly  on  him;  he  seized  the 
kind  hand,  and,  raising  it  to  his  lips  in  the  gallant  Southern 
fashion,  turned  and  hurried  away  among  the  guests. 

"  Ah,  Mrs.  Atterbury,  conquests  at  your  age,  from  hand 
to  lip,  there's  but  short  interval,"  and  the  President  held  up 
a  warning  finger  as  he  came  closer  to  the  lady. 

"  Oh,  no,  age  makes  a  long  route  between  hand  and  lip — 
thirty  years  ago  you  kissed  my  hand,  and  you  never  reached 
the  lip." 

"  It  wasn't  my  fault  that  I  didn't." 

"Nor  your  misfortune  either,"  and  Mrs.  Atterbury 
glanced  archly  at  her  rival,  Mi's.  Davis,  the  mature  beauty 
of  the  scene. 

Dick,  meanwhile,  not  so  dexterous  in  expedients  or  ready 
in  speech  as  his  mentor,  became  wedged  in  an  eddy,  just 
outside  the  main  stream,  pouring  drawing-roomward,  so  that, 
returning  to  the  spot  where  they  had  separated,  Jack  did 
not,  for  the  moment,  discover  him. 

Rosa's  gayety  and  delight  deepened  the  depression  that 
made  Dick  so  unlike  himself.  At  first,  in  the  exuberance 
of  the  scene,  the  girl  did  not  heed  this.  She  knew  every- 
body, and,  though  in  daily  contact  with  most  of  them,  there 
were  no  end  of  whispered  confidences  to  exchange  and 
tender  reassurances  in  ratification  of  some  new  compact. 
Then  there  were  solemn  notes  of  comparison  as  to  the  fit 
and  form  of  gowns,  or  the -fit  of  a  furbelow,  exhaustively 
discussed,  perhaps  that  very  afternoon.  Keen  eyes,  merry 


ALL'S   FAIR   IN   LOVE   AND   WAR.  209 

and  tantalizing,  were  lifted  to  Dick's  sulky  face  during  this 
pretty  by-play,  but  all  the  gayety  of  the  comedy  was  lost  to 
him.  When  he  could  contain  himself  no  longer,  with  an- 
other bevy  of  cronies  in  sight  coming  down  the  stairs,  he 
cried  out,  desperately : 

''  For  Heaven's  sake,  Rosa,  don't  wait  here  like  the  statue 
in  St.  Peter's,  to  be  kissed  by  everybody  on  the  way  to  the 
pope ;  it's  simply  sickening  to  stand  here  like  a  shrine  to  be 
slopped  by  girls  that  you  see  every  day.  Come  away ;  I  want 
to  say  something  to  you." 

Rosa  turned  her  astonished  eyes  upon  the  railer,  and, 
with  a  comic  movement  of  immense  dignity,  drew  her  arm 
from  his  sheltering  elbow,  and,  in  tones  of  freezing  hauteur, 
retorted : 

''  And  since  when,  sir,  are  you  master  of  my  conduct?  I 
am  my  own  mistress,  I  believe.  I  shall  kiss  whom  I  please. " 

"  O  Rosa,  Rosa,  I  didn't  mean  that ;  I  don't  know  what 
I  meant.  I — O  Rosa,  don't  be  fretful  with  me  now !  I  can't 
bear  it.  I  am  ill— I  mean  I  am  tired.  Come  and  sit  with 
me." 

Several  on  the  outer  edge  of  the  flowing  current  turned 
curiously  as  this  sharp  cry  of  boyish  pleading  rose  above  the 
noisy  clamor.  It  was  impossible,  however,  to  push  back- 
ward, but  in  an  instant  the  lovers  were  sheltered  in  an 
alcove  near  the  doorway.  Rosa  had  taken  his  rejected  arm 
again  in  a  panic  of  guilty  repentance,  and,  looking  at  his 
half-suffused  eyes,  cried,  piteously: 

''Oh,  forgive  me,  Richard,  forgive  me— I  did  not  mean 
it!  I  forgot  you  were  ill.  Ah,  please,  please  forgive  me! 
You  know — I — I — " 

But  Dick,  now  conscious  that  inquiring  eyes  were  fast- 
ened upon  them,  curious  ears  listening,  seized  her  arm,  and, 
by  main  force,  reached  the  hall  doorway,  now  nearly  de- 
serted. 

"  Rosa,  I  am  not  well—that  is,  I  have  a  headache,  or  heart- 
ache— it's  the  same  thing.  I  didn't  mean  to  tell  you,  for  I 
didn't  want  to  destroy  your  pleasure,  and  you  have  looked 
forward  so  long  to  this ;  but  I — I — can  not  dance.  Jack  and 


270  THE   IRON   GAME. 

I  are  going  to  walk  a  little  while,  and  then  we — we  shall  be 
more  ourselves." 

Poor  Dick  had  only  the  slightest  idea  what  he  was  say- 
ing, and  Rosa  listened  with  wide-open  eyes  and  little  appeal- 
ing caresses,  not  quite  certain  what  the  distracted  lover  did 
mean. 

"All  your  dances  are  taken  up.  Youug  Warrick  just 
told  me  he  had  the  first.  You  gave  Gayo  Brotherton  two 
yesterday,  so  you  will  have  no  need  of  me  for  hours  yet." 

"  But  I  will  cut  them  if  you  say  so.  Only  you  know  that 
it  is  our  way  here  to  give  the  first  who  ask." 

"Yes,  yes;  that's  right.  I— I  couldn't  dance  now.  I 
shall  be  all  right,  presently,  if — if  I  see  you  happy.  Ah, 
Rosa,  if— if  I  should  die— if  I  should  be  carried  away,  would 
you  always  love  me— would  you  always  believe  in  me?" 

"Why,  Dick,  you  are  really  ill;  let  me  feel  your  wrist." 
Rosa  seized  Dick's  hand  and  began  a  convulsive  squeezing. 
"  Yes,  you  certainly  have  a  fever.  You  must  go  home.  I 
shall  go  with  you.  It  is  your  wound.  It  has  broken  out 
again — I  know  it  has.  You  shall  go  home  this  instant.  I 
will  send  for  the  carriage.  Come  straight  up-stairs,  you 
Avicked  boy !  To  let  me  come  here  when  you  are  so  ill !  I 
shall  never  forgive  myself —never ! " 

"  A  large  vow  for  a  small  maid. " 

"  O  Mr.  Jack  !  " — for  the  voice  was  Jack's—"  Dick  is  very 
ill,  and  he  must  go  home  at  once.  Will  you  not  get  the  car- 
riage and  take  us  ? " 

"  I  will  not  take  you.  I  am  very  experienced  in  Dick's 
ailments,  and  I  have  already  summoned  a  physician,  who  is 
waiting  for  us.  But  he  can  not  attend  his  patient  if  you  are 
present." 

"  Yes,  Rosa,  Jack  is  right.  I  will  leave  you  now,  and 
when  you  see  me  again  you  will  see  that  I  am  not  ill— 
that  I-I-" 

"  I  will  stop  for  you  at  the  door,  Dick.  You  know  the 
physician  can  not  be  kept  waiting,  so  make  your  parting 
brief.  Short  shrift  is  the  easiest  in  love  and  war." 

"  A  doctor  is  as  dreadful  to  me  as  a  battle,  Rosa.     Kiss 


ALL'S  FAIR   IN   LOVE   AND   WAR.  271 

me  as  if  I  were  going  to  the  field,"  Dick  whispered  as  Jack's 
back  was  turned.  A  minute  later  he  had  joined  his  mentor, 
and  the  two  hurried  through  the  square  and  down  toward 
the  river. 

'•  I  can't  do  it,  Jack,"  Dick  suddenly  broke  out,  as  they 
hurried  through  the  dark  street.  "  I  must  leave  Rosa  a  line 
telling  her  my  motive.  What  will  she  think  of  me  sneak- 
ing away  like  this  without  a  word  ?  Now,  you  go  on  to 
Blake's  cabin  and  change  your  clothes.  I  will  get  an  old 
suit  of  Tint's.  It  will  really  make  no  difference  in  the  time, 
and  it  will  be  safer  for  us  to  reach  the  prison  separately  than 
together." 

"  No,  Dick,  be  a  man.  Every  line  you  write  will  add  to 
our  pei'il.  She  will,  of  course,  show  it  to  her  mother.  Our 
flight  will  be  known  in  the  morning.  Mrs.  Atterbury  is  too 
loyal  to  the  Confederacy  to  conceal  anything.  You  will 
thus  give  the  authorities  the  very  clew  they  need.  No,  Dick, 
you  must  be  guided  by  me  in  this  ;  besides,  you  can  send 
Rosa  letters  through  Vincent  at  headquarters  as  soon  as  we 
reach  Washington." 

"  I  can't  help  it.  I  know  you  are  right,  but  I  must  do  it. 
I  will  be  with  you  in  less  than  an  hour.  I'm  off." 

"  Listen ! — Good  God,  he's  gone  ! "  Jack  ejaculated  as  Dick, 
taking  advantage  of  a  cross-street,  shot  off  into  the  darkness. 
Jack  halted.  To  call  would  be  dangerous  ;  to  run  after  him 
excite  comment,  perhaps  pursuit  and  discovery.  There  was 
nothing  to  be  done  but  wait  at  the  rendezvous.  He  would 
come  back — Jack  tried  to  make  himself  believe  that  he  could 
depend  on  that.  When,  after  a  circuitous  walk  of  half  an 
hour,  he  reached  the  cabin  of  Blake,  the  colored  agent  of 
Mrs.  Gannat,  he  found  a  note  from  his  patroness  warning 
him  that  the  prison  authorities  had  become  alert.  A  rumor 
of  a  plot  to  escape  had  penetrated  the  War  Department,  and 
orders  had  been  given  to  increase  the  precaution  of  the 
guards.  The  reception  at  the  President's  was  a  stroke  of 
good  fortune  for  the  prisoners,  as  all  the  higher  officials 
would  be  detained  there  until  morning.  Perhaps,  in  view 
of  the  chance,  it  would  be  better  to  anticipate  the  hour  of 
18 


272  THE   IRON   GAME. 

flight,  as,  unfortunately,  the  horses  that  had  been  got  to- 
gether for  the  fugitives  were  in  use  for  the  Davis  guests, 
and  on  such  short  notice  others  could  not  be  provided  with- 
out exciting  suspicion  or  pointing  to  the  agency  by  which 
the  liberation  had  been  brought  about. 

"Ah,  if  Dick  were  only  here,"  Jack  groaned,  "we  could 
go  to  the  square  and  lead  away  enough  staff  or  orderly 
horses  to  serve  the  purpose.  The  little  wretch  !  It  would 
serve  him  properly  to  leave  him  here  mooning  over  his 
sweetheart."  Then  his  heart  took  up  a  little  tremor  of  protest. 
He  sighed  gently.  He,  too,  had  loitered  wien  his  heart 
pleaded.  Why  should  Dick  be  firmer  than  he  ?  It  was 
after  midnight  when  he  reached  the  sheltering,  broken 
ground  along  the  river.  The  provost  prison  fronted  the 
water.  It  had  been  a  tobacco  warehouse,  built  long  before, 
and  hastily  transformed  into  its  present  military  purpose. 
It  was  set  in  what  was  called  a  "  cut "  in  the  heavy  clay 
bank,  thus  bringing  the  lower  windows  below  the  level  of 
the  surrounding  land.  There  were  sentries  stationed  in  front 
and  rear,  who  walked  at  regular  intervals  from  corner  to 
corner.  The  sentinel  on  the  high  level  to  the  rear  could  not 
see  the  ground  along  the  wall,  and  it  was  this  fact  which 
Jack  calculated  upon  to  enable  him  to  help  the  prisoners  to 
remove  the  debris  of  the  wall  through  which  they  were  to 
presently  emerge.  The  night  was  pitchy  dark.  This  had 
been  taken  into  consideration  long  before.  Heavy  clouds 
hung  over  the  river,  throwing  the  prison  and  its  environs 
into  still  more  security  for  Jack's  purpose.  He  reconnoitred 
every  available  point,  searched  eveiy  corner  of  possible  dan- 
ger, and  as  the  time  passed  he  began  to  rage  with  impatience 
against  Dick,  whose  delay  was  now  periling  the  success  of 
the  enterprise. 

It  was  twelve  o'clock  and  after.  He  dared  wait  no  longer. 
Dick  must  shift  for  himself.  Perhaps  he  had  lost  his  way. 
In  any  event  it  was  safer  to  set  the  general  prisoners  free,  as 
they  were  only  carelessly  guarded.  Lamps  glimmered  fit- 
fully in  the1  guard-room,  throwing  fantastic  banners  of  light 
almost  to  the  water's  edge.  He  made  a  final  tour  about  the 


ALL'S   FAIR   IN   LOVE  AND   WAR.  273 

broken  ground,  but  there  was  no  sound  or  suspicion  of  Dick. 
He  knew  every  inch  of  the  ground.  Dick  and  he  had  sur- 
veyed and  resurveyed  it  for  days.  The  coast  was  clear.  No 
one  was  on  guard  at  the  vital  point,  but  still  he  lingered,  his 
breath  coming  and  going  painfully,  as  a  break  in  the  clouds 
cast  a  moving  shape  over  the  undulating  ground.  Should 
he  give  the  boy  another  half-hour's  grace  ?  He  makes  a 
circuit  in  the  direction  Dick  must  approach  by  and  waits. 
He  will  count  a  hundred  very  slowly,  then  wait  no  longer. 
He  counts  up  to  fifty,  hears  a  coming  step,  and  waits  alertly. 
No — it  passes  on.  He  begins  again — counts  one  hundred, 
two  hundred.  No  sign.  "  Pah  !  it  is  madness  to  delay  for 
him.  The  young  poltroon  has  lost  his  resolution  in  his  love- 
sick fever.  Very  likely  he  has  been  unable  to  run  the  risk 
of  Eosa's  anger — her  mother's  indignation— the  possibility 
of  never  seeing  the  girl  again."  Well,  he  had  given  him 
ample  grace.  He  had  endangered  his  own  and  other  lives 
to  humor  a  boyish  whim.  Now  he  must  act,  and  swiftly. 

The  plan  was  too  far  gone  in  execution  to  be  changed. 
He  must  carry  out  the  final  measures  alone.  Now,  one  of 
these  details  required  some  one  to  slip  down  on  the  ground 
and  crawl  to  the  point  between  the  windows  where  the  pris- 
oners were  working  and  aid  them  to  remove  the  thin  shell 
of  brick.  If  it  fell  outward,  the  guard  at  the  corner  would 
hear  the  noise,  and  might  come  down  to  see  what  it  was 
that  made  it.  The  removal  of  this  wall  released  all  confined 
in  the  main  prison.  These  he  saw  stealing  out  in  groups  of 
ten  or  more.  They  had  guides  waiting  on  the  bank  of  the 
river.  Jack  gave  them  final  orders.  The  most  difficult 
work  was  the  getting  out  Jones  and  Barney,  for  they  had 
special  cells.  Jack  was  to  guard  Jones's  exit  and  Dick  Bar- 
ney's, but  now  all  the  work  would  deyolve  upon  him.  It 
was  two  o'clock,  and  he  dared  wait  no  longer.  Raising 
himself  from  the  low  wall  where  he  had  been  crouching,  he 
started  toward  the  corner  of  the  prison  farthest  from  the 
guard-room.  At  the  wall  of  the  building  he  dropped  flat  on 
his  face  and  began  to  crawl  forward,  sheltered  by  the  low 
ground  that  formed  a  sort  of  dry  ditch  about  the  basement 


274:  THE   IRON   GAME. 

of  the  prison.  He  had  barely  stretched  himself  at  full 
length  when  a  bright  light  was  flashed  on  him  from  a  deep 
doorway  just  beyond  him,  and  a  voice,  mocking  and  tri- 
umphant, exclaimed: 

"  This  is  a  bad  place  to  swim,  my  friend  !  There  ain't 
enough  water  to  drown  you,  but  if  you  stir  you'll  run 
against  a  bullet." 

Jack  lay  quite  still  and  raised  his  eyes.  Above  him  stood 
a  trooper,  with  a  revolver  leveled  at  and  within  ten  feet  of 
him.  Figure  to  yourself  any  predicament  in  life  in  which 
vital  stakes  hang  on  the  issue ;  figure  to  yourself  the  ship- 
wrecked seizing  ice  where  he  had  hoped  for  timber ;  the  con- 
demned criminal  walking  into  the  jailer's  toils  where  he  had 
laboriously  dug  through  solid  walls ;  the  captain  of  an  army^ 
leaving  the  field  victor,  to  find  his  legions  rushing  upon  him 
in  rout;  figure  any  monstrous  overturn  in  well-laid  schemes, 
and  you  have  but  a  faint  reflex  of  poor  Jack's  heart-breaking 
anguish  when  this  jocular  fate  stood  above  him,  with  the  five 
gaping  barrels  pointed  at  his  miserable  head.  Oh,  if  Dick 
had  only  been  there  !  His  quick  eye  and  keen  activity  would 
have  discovered  this  lurking  devil ;  perhaps,  between  them, 
they  would  have  averted  the  disaster.  Where  could  Dick 
be? 


BOOK  III. 
THE  DESERTERS. 


CHAPTER  XXIV. 

BETWEEN  THE  LINES. 

ON  quitting  Jack,  Dick  had  but  one  thought  in  mind— to 
make  his  departure  less  abrupt  for  Rosa.  If  he  left  her 
without  a  word,  what  would  she  think  ?  Then,  with  an  offi- 
cer's uniform,  he  could  be  of  much  moi-e  help  to  Jack  and 
the  party  than  in  the  rough  civilian  homespun  furnished  at 
the  cabin.  Besides,  he  knew  of  certain  blank  headquarter 
passes  lying  on  Vincent's  desk.  He  would  get  a  few  of 
these ;  they  might  extricate  the  party  in  the  event  of  a  sur- 
prise. 

He  tore  over  the  solemn  roadway,  under  the  spectral 
foliage,  and  in  twenty  minutes  he  was  in  his  room  in  the 
Atterburys'.  Vincent's  old  uniform  he  had  often  noticed  in 
a  spare  closet  adjoining  his  own  sleeping-room.  In  an  in- 
stant he  was  in  it,  and,  though  it  was  not  a  fit,  he  soon  put  it 
in  order  to  pass  casual  inspection.  The  line  for  Rosa  was 
the  next  delay.  What  should  he  say  ?  He  had  had  his 
mind  full  for  days  of  the  most  tender  sentiments  and  pret- 
tily turned  phrases,  but  the  turmoil  of  the  last  hour,  the 
vital  value  of  every  moment  to  Jack's  plans,  left  him 
no  time  to  compose  the  proem  he  had  meditated  so  long. 
Rosa's  own  pretty  desk  was  open,  and  on  a  sheet  of  her  own 
paper  he  wrote,  in  a  scrawling,  school-boy  hand : 

"DARLING  ROSA:  You've  often  said  that  you  would  dis- 
own Vincent  if  he  were  not  true  to  the  South.  Think  of 


276  THE   IRON   GAME. 

Vincent  in  my  place — dawdling  in  Acredale  or  Washington 
while  battles  were  going  on.  You  would  not  hold  him  less 
contemptible  that  he  was  in  love ;  that  he  let  his  love,  or  his 
life,  for  you  are  both  to  me,  stand  as  a  barrier  to  his  duty. 
You  can't  love  where  you  can't  honor,  and  you  can't  hate 
where  you  know  conscience  rules.  I  go  to  my  duty,  that  in 
the  end  I  may  come  to  you  without  shame.  I  ask  no  pledge 
other  than  comes  to  your  heart  when  you  read  this ;  but 
whatever  you  may  say,  whatever  you  may  decide,  I  am  now 
and  always  shall  be  your  devoted 

RICHARD." 

He  sighed,  casting  a  woe-begone  glance  into  the  mirror, 
dimly  conscious  that  he  was  a  very  heroic  young  person. 
He  kissed  various  objects  dear  to  the  little  maid,  and  then, 
in  lugubrious  unrest,  sallied  out  and  mounted. 

Again  under  the  calm  sky — again  the  fleet  limbs  of  the 
horse  almost  keeping  time  to  his  own  inward  impatience. 
He  holds  to  the  soft,  unpaved,  outlying  streets,  that  his  pace 
may  not  attract  remark.  He  passes  horsemen,  like  himself 
spurring  fleetly  in  the  darkness.  He  is  near  the  river  at 
last — dismounts  and  reconnoitres.  He  easily  finds  a  place 
to  tie  the  horse,  and,  familiar  with  every  inch  of  the  outly- 
ing ground  about  the  prison,  crawls  close  to  the  wall,  listen- 
ing intently.  He  can  hear  no  sound  save  the  weary  clank 
of  the  sentry  on  the  wooden  walk.  He  reaches  the  wall 
where  the  prisoners  Jones  and  Barney  were  to  emei'ge. 
There  is  no  sign  of  a  break !  Where  can  Jack  be  ?  Some 
disaster  must  have  overtaken  him,  for  it  is  past  the  hour  set 
and  soon  it  will  be  dawn,  and  then  all  action  will  be  impos- 
sible. Perhaps  Jack  has  been  caught  reconnoitring  ?  Per- 
haps he  has  gone  with  the  main  body,  not  venturing  to  try 
for  Jones  and  Dick  without  help  ?  No,  that  was  not  like 
Jack.  This  was  his  special  part  in  the  plan — if  it  were  not 
done,  Jack  was  still  about.  He  can  find  out  readily — thanks 
to  the  countersign.  He  steals  back  over  the  low  hillock, 
mounts  the  horse,  and  by  a  d£tour  reaches  the  sentry  guard- 
?ng  the  river  front  of  the  prison.  He  is  challenged,  but, 


BETWEEN    THE   LINES.  277 

possessed  of  the  countersign,  finds  no  difficulty  in  riding  up 
to  the  guard-room  doorway. 

"  Has  Lieutenant  Hawkins  been  here  within  an  hour, 
sentry  ? "  he  asks,  in  apparent  haste. 

"  No,  sir,  I  think  he  has  been  sent  for — leastwise,  the  ser- 
geant went  away  about  an  hour  ago  to  report  the  taking  of 
a  deserter,  found  prowling  about  the  side  of  the  prison." 

"  A  deserter  ? " 

"  Yes,  sir.  He  had  a  brand-new  uniform  on  and  110  com- 
pany mark,  nor  no  equipments." 

"  What  has  been  done  with  him  ? "  Dick  asked,  breath- 
lessly, dismounting.  ''  I  wonder  if  he  isn't  one  of  ray  com- 
pany from  Fort  Lee  ?  He  went  off  on  a  drunk  yesterday, 
though  he  was  sent  here  on  a  commissary  errand." 

"  I  dunno,  sir.  He's  in  the  lockup  there.  He  was  very 
violent,  and  the  sergeant  bound  him  with  straps." 

"  I  will  go  in  and  examine  him;  he  may  be  one  of  my 
men,  and,  as  our  brigade  moves  in  the  morning,  I  should 
like  to  know." 

"Very  well,  sir;  the  officer  of  the  day  is  asleep  in  the 
room  beyond  the  first  door.  One  of  the  men  will  call  him." 

"  Oh,  no  need  to  disturb  him  until  I  have  seen  the  pris- 
oner.—Here,  my  man" — addressing  a  soldier  asleep  on.  a 
settee— "show  me  to  the  deserter  brought  in  to-night " 

"  Yes,  sir,"  the  man  cried,  starting  up  with  confused  alac- 
rity; then,  noticing  the  insignia  of  major  on  Dick's  gray 
collar,  he  saluted  respectfully,  and,  pointing  to  a  double 
doorway,  waited  for  his  superior  to  lead  the  way.  Dick, 
who  had  been  in  the  prison  before,  knew  his  whereabouts 
very  well,  and  it  was  not  until  the  soldier  reached  the  room 
in  which  the  deserter  was  detained  that  he  seemed  to  remem- 
ber that  there  were  no  lights. 

"  Here  are  the  man's  quarters,  sir;  but  I'm  out  of  matches. 
If  you'll  wait  a  minute  I'll  bring  a  candle." 

"  All  right,"  Dick  responded,  in  a  loud  voice ;  "  I'll  stand 
here  until  you  come  back." 

The  quest  of  the  candle  would  take  the  guide  to  the  closet 
in  the  guard-room,  and,  risking  little  to  learn  much,  Dick 


278  THE   IROX   GAME. 

struck  a  match  and  peered  into  the  stuffy  little  room,  more 
like  a  corn-crib  than  a  prison-cell. 

"  Hist,  Jack!  is  it  you? "  he  called. 

There  was  an  exclamation  from  the  farther  end  of  the 
room,  and  then  a  fervent — 

"Heavens,  Dick!  is  it  really  you?" 

"Sh— ,  sh— !" 

The  soldier's  returning  footfalls  sounded  in  the  passage- 
way ;  but,  as  he  re-entered  the  hall  where  Dick  stood  shad- 
ing the  flickering  light,  he  could  not  see  the  hastily  extin- 
guished match  in  Dick's  hand.  As  the  man  came  slowly 
along  the  winding  passage-way,  Dick  whispered: 

"You  are  a  recruit  in  Eickett's  legion;  you  were  drunk 
and  lost  your  way,  and  I  am  your  major ;  you  are  stationed 
at  Fort  Lee,  near  Mechanicsville,  and  you  belong  to  Com- 
pany G." 

Jack  pretended  to  be  sound  asleep  when  the  soldier  and 
Dick  entered.  He  rubbed  his  eyes  sleepily,  and  looked  up 
in  a  vacant,  tipsy  way,  leering  knowingly  at  the  soldier, 
who  had  caught  him  by  the  shoulder. 

"What  are  you  doing  here,  Tarpey?  Why  aren't  you 
with  your  company?  You'll  get  ball  and  chain  for  this  lark, 
or  my  name's  not  James  Braine." 

"  But,  major,  it — it  wasn't  my  fault.  My  cousin,  Joe  Tar- 
pey, came  down  from  Staunton  with  a  barrel  of  so'gum 
whisky,  and — and — ' 

"  You  drank  too  much  and  was  caught  where  you  had  no 
business  to  be.  However,"  Dick  added,  sternly,  "  the  regi- 
ment marches  in  the  morning — you  must  get  out  of  here. 
Soldier,  show  me  to  Captain  Payne's  quarters.  Say  to  him 
that  Major  Braine,  of  Rickett's  Legion,  desires  to  speak  with 
him  a  moment."  But  he  had  no  sooner  said  this  than  he 
realized  the  danger  he  was  running. 

The  captain  might  know  Braine,  and  then  how  could  he 
extricate  himself  from  the  dilemma  ?  Luckily  the  captain 
was  not  in  his  quarters,  and  Dick,  with  calm  effrontery,  sat 
down  and  wrote  out  a  statement  of  the  case,  where  he  was 
to  be  found,  and  his  reasons  for  carrying  the  prisoner  away. 


BETWEEN   THE   LINES.  279 

The  sergeant,  having  read  this,  made  no  objection  to  re- 
leasing the  alleged  deserter,  since  there  had  been  no  orders 
concerning  him,  and,  without  more  ado,  Jack  walked  away 
with  his  captain,  the  picture  of  abashed  valor  and  repentant 
tipsiness. 

"  Now,  Dick,  there's  no  time  to  ask  the  meaning  of  your 
miraculous  doings.  We've  still  time  to  let  our  friends  out 
and  get  away  before  daylight ;  but  we  mustn't  lose  a  second. 
Sh !  stand  still,  what's  that?  Troopers !  Good  heavens,  they 
can't  have  found  out  your  trick  so  soon !  Ah,  no !  They 
are  floundering  about  looking  for  quarters,"  he  added,  in 
immeasurable  relief,  as  the  voices  of  the  riders  sounded 
through  the  darkness,  cursing  luck,  the  road,  and  every- 
thing else.  "  O  Dick,  if  we  only  had  the  countersign  I  could 
play  a  brilliant  trick  on  these  greenhorns !  Perhaps  I  can 
as  it  is." 

"I  have  the  countersign.  How  do  you  suppose  I  could 
have  managed  to  get  to  you  if  I  hadn't?  It  is  '  Lafayette.'  " 

"  Glory !    Now  make  all  the  clatter  you  can  after  I  chal- 


They  had  by  this  time  reached  a  row  of  tumble-down 
stables  directly  in  the  rear  of  the  prison,  and  shut  out  from 
the  open  ground  by  a  decrepit  fence,  broken  here  and  there 
by  negroes  too  lazy  to  pass  out  into  the  street  to  reach  the 
river.  The  horsemen  had  turned  into  this  lane-like  high- 
way— evidently  misdirected.  When  within  a  few  feet,  Jack 
gave  a  sudden  whack  on  the  board  and  cried,  sternly: 

"  Halt !    Who  comes  there  ? " 

There  was  a  sudden  clash  of  steel  as  the  group  halted  in 
a  heap,  and  then  a  weary  voice  replied : 

"  We  have  no  countersign.  We  should  have  been  at  our 
destination  long  before  sundown,  but  were  misdirected  ten 
miles  out  of  our  course  on  the  Manchester  pike." 

"Very  well.  Dismount  and  come  forward  one  man  at  a 
time,"  Jack  answered,  briefly.  This  the  spokesman  did  with 
some  alacrity.  As  he  came  up,  Dick  took  the  precaution  of 
getting  between  him  and  his  three  companions,  and  then 
Jack  said :  "  I  suppose  you  are  all  right ;  but  my  orders  are 


280  THE   IRON   GAME. 

to  arrest  all  mounted  men,  detain  their  horses  here  in  these, 
the  provost  stables,"  and  Jack  pointed  to  Dick's  horse  dimly 
outlined  against  the  sky.  '*  I  will  give  you  a  receipt  for 
him,  and  you  can  get  him  back  in  the  morning  when  you 
state  your  case  to  the  provost  marshal. — Stephen,"  he  turned 
to  Dick,  "  take  that  horse  and  put  him  with  the  others."  He 
then  made  out  a  receipt,  handed  it  to  the  astonished  trooper, 
and,  directing  him  where  to  go,  carried  out  the  same  short 
shrift  with  the  other  three.  The  troopers  were  glad  enough 
to  be  relieved  of  their  beasts.  This  they  did  not  attempt  to 
deny,  for  they  had  seen  a  public-house  in  the  street  below, 
where  they  could  procure  much-needed  refreshment,  relieved 
as  they  now  were  from  the  necessity  of  reporting  to  their 
commander,  whose  whereabouts  were  far  down  the  Rocett 
road. 

"  By  George,  Jack,  what  a  crafty  plotter  you  are !  Now 
we  have  a  mount  for  the  party,  and  I  needn't  take  poor 
Warick's  crack  stallion." 

"Yes;  we've  doubled  the  chances  of  escape  by  this  little 
stratagem ;  but  we  have  lost  time.  Come.  Have  you  tied 
the  horses? " 

"Yes.    Lead  on." 

Over  the  turfy  hillside,  now  moist  and  sticky  with  the 
heavy  dew,  they  stole,  half  crouching,  half  crawling,  until 
they  were  on  a  level  with  the  prison  basement.  The  sentry 
in  front  was  no  longer  pacing  his  beat,  and  there  was  no 
sign  of  the  man  in  the  rear.  In  a  few  minutes  the  two 
crawling  figures  were  at  the  preconcerted  places  in  the  wall. 
In  response  to  their  light  taps,  a  square  of  brick-work  large 
enough  to  leave  a  space  for  a  man  to  crawl  through  crum- 
bled upon  Jack  and  Dick,  Avho  held  their  bodies  closely 
pressed  against  the  debris  to  prevent  too  loud  a  noise.  There 
was  no  time  to  wait  probabilities  of  discovery,  and  an  instant 
later  Barney  and  Jones  emerged,  panting  and  half  smothered. 

"  I  thought  it  was  all  up  with  me  hopes,  as  Glory  McNab 
said  when  her  sweetheart  ran  away  with  the  cobbler's  daugh- 
ter," Barney  whispered,  hugging  Jack  rapturously. 

"  Sh — !    Down  on  your  stomachs.     Move  that  way  until 


BETWEEN  THE   LINES.  281 

you  see  me  rise.  Come."  And  Jack  squirmed  ahead  as  if 
lie  had  been  accustomed  to  the  locomotion  of  snakes  all  his 
life.  In  ten  minutes  they  were  in  the  improvised  stables. 
Dick  had  taken  the  precaution  to  place  the  horses  where 
they  could  feed  on  a  heap  of  fodder  stacked  in  the  yard,  and 
when  they  mounted  the  beasts  appeared  refreshed  as  well  as 
rested.  Dick  loosing  Warick's  horse  so  that  he  might  make 
his  way  back  to  his  master,  the  fugitives  rode  cautiously  out 
of  the  lane,  into  the  open  fields,  and,  though  it  was  not  their 
shortest  way,  pushed  along  the  river  road  to  mislead  pursuit. 
Jack's  sti-atagem  had  resulted  in  better  luck  even  than  the 
possession  of  the  horses.  It  not  only  secured  a  mount  for 
the  four,  but,  what  was  equally  and  perhaps,  in  view  of  un- 
foreseen contingencies,  more  important  disguises  for  the  two 
prisoners. 

They  found  an  extra  coat  strapped  to  each  saddle,  and 
with  these  Barney  and  Jones  were  easily  transformed  into 
something  like  Confederate  soldiers.  Both  Jack  and  Jones 
knew  every  inch  of  the  suburbs,  having  made  the  topography 
a  study.  They  struck  for  the  less  traveled  thoroughfares  un- 
til they  reached  the  northeastern  limits,  then  following  the 
old  Cold  Harbor  road  they  pushed  decisively  toward  the 
Williamsburg  pike.  But,  instead  of  following  it,  they  trav- 
ersed on  by  lanes  and  bridle-paths  during  the  day.  This  was 
to  divide  pursuit,  as  the  larger  party  had  taken  the  river 
route  where  Butler's  troops  were  waiting  in  boats  for  them. 
The  saddle-bags  proved  a  windfall,  for  in  them  were  orders 
to  proceed  to  Yorktown  and  report  to  General  Magruder. 
With  these  Jack  felt  no  difficulty  in  passing  several  awk- 
ward points,  where  there  was  no  escaping  the  cavalry  pa- 
trols, owing  to  miles  of  swamp  and  impenetrable  forest. 

They  kept  clear,  however,  of  such  places  as  the  telegraph 
reached,  though  at  one  point  they  found  a  post  in  a  great 
state  of  excitement  over  news  brought  from  a  neighboring 
wire,  announcing  the  escape  of  two  prisoners  who  had  been 
traced  to  the  York  road.  But  with  such  papers  as  Jack  pre- 
sented and  the  number  of  the  party  double  that  described  in 
the  dispatch,  the  adventurers  easily  evaded  suspicion.  The 


282  THE  IRON   GAME. 

great  danger,  however,  was  in  quitting  the  Confederate  lines 
to  pass  into  Butler's.  They  chose  the  night  for  this,  as  the 
camp-fires  would  warn  them  of  the  vicinity  of  outposts, 
Union  or  rebel.  They  had  purposely  avoided  highways  and 
habitations,  and,  as  a  result,  were  limited  in  food  to  such 
corn-cribs  as  they  found  far  from  human  abodes,  or  the 
autumn  aftermath  of  vegetables  sometimes  found  in  the 
shadow  of  the  woods.  All  were  good  shots,  however,  and  a 
fat  rabbit  and  partridge  were  cooked  by  Dick  with  such  ad- 
dress, that  the  party  were  eager  to  take  more  time  in  halting 
since  they  need  not  starve,  no  matter  how  long  the  journey 
lasted. 

Jack,  by  tacit  consent,  was  considered  commander  of  the 
squad,  Barney  remarking  humorously  that  they  would  not 
ask  to  see  his  commission  until  they  were  in  a  country  where 
a  title  meant  authority.  The  commander  ordered  his  small 
army  very  judiciously.  They  were  to  ride  as  far  apart  as 
the  roads  or  woods  or  natural  obstructions  would  admit. 
They  thus  moved  forward  in  the  shape  of  a  triangle,  the 
apex  to  the  rear.  Exchanges  of  position  were  made  every 
six  hours.  They  were  at  the'end  of  the  second  day,  toward 
sunset,  approaching  what  they  supposed  was  Warrick  Creek, 
nearly  half-way  to  Fort  Monroe,  when  they  suddenly  emerged 
on  an  open  plateau  from  which  they  could  see  a  mile  or  two 
before  them  a  tranquil  waste  of  crimson  water. 

"  Why,  this  can't  be  the  creek  ! "  exclaimed  Jones,  ex- 
citedly. "  The  creek  isn't  half  a  mile  at  its  broadest." 

"  What  can  it  be  ? "  Jack  asked,  who  had  been  the  right 
wing  to  Jones's  left.  "  It's,  certainly  not  the  James,  for  the 
sun  is  setting  at  our  back !  " 

"  Blest  if  I  can  tell.  It  looks  very  much  like  the  Chesa- 
peake, only  the  Chesapeake  is  wider." 

By  this  time  Barney  and  Dick  had  ridden  up,  and  began 
to  admire  the  expanse  of  water  spreading  from  the  land  be- 
fore them  to  a  green  wilderness  in  the  distance. 

"  I'm  afraid  we  are  in  a  fix,"  Jones  said,  resignedly.  "  If 
I'm  not  very  much  mistaken,  the  red  line  yonder,  that  looks 
like  a  roadway,  is  a  breastwork,  and  behind  that  what  looks 


BETWEEN  THE   LINES.  283 

like  a  plowed  field  is  earthworks.  My  boys,  we  are  before 
Yorktown  and  farther  from  our  lines  than  we  were  yester- 
day. The  nigger  that  showed  us  the  way  in  the  woods  was 
either  ignorant  or  deceiving  us.  We  are  now  inside  the  out- 
posts of  the  rebels,  and  we  shall  have  to  crawl  on  our  hands 
and  knees  to  escape  them." 

"  I  don't  see  what  better  off  we'll  be  on  our  hands  and 
knees  than  we  are  in  our  saddles,"  Barney  cried,  guilelessly 
"  Sure  we  can  go  faster  on  the  bastes  than  we  can  on  our 
hands,  and,  as  for  me  knees,  'tis  only  in  prayer  that  I  ever 
use  them." 

"  Not  in  love,  Barney  ? "  Dick  asked,  innocently. 

"  No,  me  darlin'.  The  gurls  I  love  think  more  of  me 
arms  than  me  knees,  and  I  do  all  of  me  pleadin'  with  me 
lips." 

"  I  should  think  they  could  hold  their  own,"  Jones  re- 
marked, dryly. 

"  Indeed,  they  can  that,  and  a  good  deal  more,  as  me  best 
gurl'll  tell  you  if  shell  tell  the  truth,  and  no  fear  of  her  do- 
ing that,  I'll  go  bail." 

"  Fie !  Barney,  if  she  won't  tell  the  truth  you  should  have 
none  of  her,"  Dick  cried  in  stage  tones. 

"  Indeed,  it's  little  I  have  of  her,  for  she's  that  set  on 
Teddy  Redmund  that  she  leaves  me  to  her  mother,  when 
Teddy  comes  to  the  porch  of  an  evening." 

"  Well,  friends,  your  loves  are,  no  doubt,  adorable,  and 
it  is  a  pleasant  thing  to  talk  over,  but  just  now  what  we 
want  is  a  way  out  of  this  trap  " ;  and  Jack,  saying  this, 
slipped  from  his  horse  and  led  him  into  the  shelter  of  a 
thick  growth  of  scrub-pines.  The  rest  followed  his  exam- 
ple. They  tied  their  animals  and  held  a  council  of  war.  It 
was  resolved  that  Jack  and  Jones  should  make  a  reconnais- 
sance to  find  out  the  route  toward  the  Warrick  ;  that  Dick 
and  Barney  should  secrete  and  guard  the  horses  and  do 
what  they  could  to  obtain  some  food.  This  decision  was 
barely  agreed  upon,  when  the  shrill  call  of  a  bugle  sounded 
almost  among  the  refugees,  and  they  sprang  to  their  horses, 
waiting  in  silence  the  next  demonstration.  Other  bugles 


284  THE   IRON   GAME. 

sounded  farther  away  ;  a  great  cloud  of  dust  arose  in  the 
direction  of  the  water,  and  then  Jack  whispered  : 

"  Remain  here.  I  will  climh  one  of  these  trees  and  see 
what  it  means." 

He  was  in  the  leafy  boughs  of  a  spreading  pine  in  a  few 
minutes,  and  could  descry  a  broad  plain,  with  tents  scattered 
here  and  there  ;  still  farther  on  the  broad  uplands  frame 
buildings  with  a  red  and  white  flag  floating  to  the  wind 
could  be  seen.  Back  of  all  this  he  could  make  out  a  broad 
expanse  of  water  and  a  few  ungainly  craft,  lazily  moving  to 
the  current  in  the  Yorktown  roadstead. 

"  Yes,  this  certainly  must  be  Yorktown.  Why  have  they 
such  a  force  here  ?  No  one  is  threatening  it,"  Jack  mur- 
mured, his  eyes  arrested  by  a  long  line  of  cavalry  in  un- 
dress, leading  their  horses  up  a  circuitous  and  hitherto  con- 
cealed road  to  the  plateau.  Ha  !  they  go  down  there  for 
water.  Let  me  see.  That  is  to  the  southeastward  ;  that  is 
our  point  of  direction.  I  think  we  may  venture  to  push  on 
now."  He  hastily  descended  from  his  survey,  and  making 
known  what  he  had  seen,  added  :  "  We  must  proceed  with 
the  greatest  caution.  There  is  no  time  to  think  of  food  un- 
til we  get  away  from  this  dangerous  neighborhood.  We 
must  keep  well  spread  out,  and  move  only  over  turfy  ground 
or  in  the  deep  shade  of  the  wood.  In  case  of  disaster,  the 
cry  of  the  night  owl,  as  agreed  upon,  will  be  a  warning." 

The  four  had  practiced  the  melancholy  cry  of  the  owl,  as 
heard  in  the  Southern  woods  both  day  and  night,  and  they 
could  all  imitate  it  sufficiently  well  to  pass  muster  if  the 
hearer  were  not  on  guard  against  the  trick,  and  yet  so  clever 
an  imitation  that  none  of  the  four  could  mistake  it.  So  soon 
as  they  quit  the  plateau,  seeking  a  way  east  by  south,  they 
plunged  immediately  into  a  dreary  swamp,  where  progress 
was  slow  and  difficult.  The  mosquitoes  beset  them  in 
swarms,  plaguing  even  the  poor  animals  with  their  lusty 
sting.  Hour  after  hour,  until  the  woods  became  a  hideous 
chaos  of  darkness  and  unseemly  sounds,  the  four  panting 
fugitives  pushed  on,  fainting  with  hunger,  worn  out  by  the 
incessant  battle  with  the  corded  foliage,  the  dense  marshes, 


BETWEEN   THE   LINES.  285 

and  quagmires  through  which  their  path  to  safety  lay.  But 
at  midnight  Jones  gasped  and  gave  up  the  fight. 

"  Go  on  ;  leave  me  here.  I  am  of  no  use  at  best.  I  should 
only  be  a  drag  on  you.  Perhaps  you  may  find  some  darkey 
and  send  him  back  to  give  me  a  mouthful  to  eat.  That 
would  pick  me  up  ;  nothing  else  can." 

The  four  gathered  together  for  counsel.  The  horses, 
faring  better  than  their  masters,  for  they  found  abundance 
to  allay  hunger  in  the  lush,  dank  grass  of  the  morass,  were 
corraled  in  a  clump  of  white  ash,  and  the  jaded  men,  groping 
about,  clambered  upon  the  gnarled  roots  of  the  trees  to  catch 
breath.  They  had  been  battling  steadily  for  five  hours 
against  all  the  forces  of  Nature.  Their  clothes  were  torn, 
their  flesh  abraded,  their  strength  exhausted.  They  could 
have  slept,  but  the  ground  offered  no  place,  for  wherever 
the  foot  rested  an  instant  the  weight  of  the  body  pushed  it 
down  into  the  oozy  soil  until  water  gushed  in  over  the  shoe- 
tops.  Jones  had  found  the  struggle  hardest  because  he  had 
not  the  youth  of  the  others  nor  their  light  frames.  The 
striplings  were  spared  many  of  his  hardships  and  were  still 
able  to  endure  the  ordeal,  if  the  end  were  sure  relief.  Jack 
struck  a  match,  and  with  this  lighted  a  pine  knot.  He  sur- 
veyed the  gloomy  brake  carefully,  and  at  last,  finding  a 
mound  where  a  thick  growth  of  underbrush  gave  assurance 
of  less  treacherous  soil,  he  called  to  Barney  to  aid  him.  The 
little  hillock  was  made  into  a  couch  by  means  of  the  saddles, 
and  the  groaning  veteran  carefully  laid  upon  the  by  no 
means  uncomfortable  refuge.  As  Jack  held  the  light  above 
him,  Jones's  eyes  closed  and  he  sank  into  a  lethargic  sleep. 

"  He  will  be  in  a  high  fever  when  he  awakes,"  Jack  said, 
looking  at  Barney.  "  We  must  see  that  he  has  food,  or  the 
fever  will  be  his  death.  Here  is  what  I  propose:  you  and  I 
shall  sally  out  from  here,  blazing  the  path  as  we  go.  We 
must  find  some  sign  of  life  within  a  circuit  of  five  miles. 
That  will  take  us  say  till  daylight  to  go  and  come.  We  will 
leave  Dick  here  to  guard  Jones,  and  if  we  do  not  return  by 
noon  to-morrow  Dick  will  know  that  he  must  shift  for  him- 
self." 


286  THE   IROX   GAME. 

"You  command,  Jack  dear.  What  you  say  I'll  do,  as 
Molly  Meginniss  said  to  the  priest  when  he  told  her  to  re- 
pent of  her  sins." 

"Dick,  my  boy,  do  you  think  you  are  equal  to  a  vigil  ? 
You  must  stay  here  with  Jones.  If  he  wakes  and  wants 
water,  press  the  moisture  of  these  leaves  to  his  lips,  it's  sassa- 
fras; and,  stay — here  is  a  sort  of  plantain,  filled  with  little 
globules  of  dew  ;  pour  these  into  his  mouth,  and  at  a  pinch 
give  him  a  handful  from  the  pool.  In  case  of  great  danger 
fire  two  shots,  but  if  any  one  should  come  toward  you  or 
discover  you  it  will  be  better  to  surrender.  In  that  event, 
you  can  make  up  a  story  to  suit  the  case,  which  may  enable 
you  to  finally  escape.  This  man's  life  is  in  your  hands. 
Remember  that  it  is  as  glorious  a  deed  as  fighting  in  line. 
Keep  up  a  stout  heart.  We  will  soon  be  back,  or  you  may 
take  it  for  granted  all  is  up  with  us." 

"  Ah !  Jack !  Jack !  To  start  so  well  and  end  so  misera- 
bly. I  can't  bear  it — I  can't  stay  here.  You  stay  and  let 
me  go." 

"No,  Dick,  it  can't  be;  you  are  already  so  worn  out  that 
we  should  have  been  obliged  to  halt  for  you  if  Jones  hadn't 
broken  down.  It  can't  be  that  you  would  think  of  leaving 
a  fellow-soldier  in  such  extremity  as  this,  Dick  ?  I  know  you 
better." 

"But  I  don't  know  him.  I  have  no  interest  in  him. 
With  you  I'll  face  any  danger — I'll  die  without  a  word ;  but 
to  stay  here  in  this  awful  place,  with  the  black  pools  of  water, 
like  great  dead  eyes,  glaring  in  their  hideous  light "  (the  pine- 
torch  flaring  in  the  wind  filled  the  glade  with  vast  ogreish 
shadows,  as  the  clustering  bushes  were  swayed  in  the  night 
air)  "  and  these  hideous  night-cries — O  Jack,  I  can't — I  can't 
— I  must  go  !" 

"But  the  horses  and  the  need  of  some  one  that  can  come 
back  in  case  anything  befalls  me.  I  am  disappointed  in  you, 
Dick.  I  am  shocked ;  you  are  not  the  man  of  courage  and 
honor  I  thought  you." 

"  O  my  God,  go — go — I  will  stay ;  but,  Jack,  if  you  find 
me  dead,  tell — tell — Rosa — that — that — "  He  gasped  and 


PHANTASMAGORIA.  287 

sank  down  sobbing  against  the  gnarled  tree  that  crossed  the 
mound  above  Jones's  head. 

"  I  will  tell  Rosa  that  you  were  the  man  she  believed  you 
were  when  the  trial  came,"  and  with  this  Jack  and  Barney, 
with  a  flaming  torch,  set  forward  hastily  through  the  fan- 
tastic curtain  of  foliage  and  night,  which  shut  in  the  glim- 
mering vista  of  specters,  dark,  sinister,  and  menacing. 


CHAPTER  XXV. 

PHANTASMAGORIA. 

To  say  that  night  is  a  time  of  terror  is  a  commonplace. 
Night  is  not  terrible  of  itself.  It  is  like  the  ocean — peace 
and  repose  if  there  be  no  storm.  But  of  all  terrors  there 
are  none,  outside  a  guilty  mind,  so  benumbing  as  night  in 
the  unknown.  It  does  not  lessen  the  horror  of  darkness 
that  fear  makes  use  of  the  imagination  for  its  agencies. 
Fancy,  intuition,  and  the  train  that  follows  the  inner  vision, 
these  make  of  night  a  phantasmagoria,  compared  to  which 
Milton's  inferno  is  a  place  of  comparative  repose. 

If  you  would  realize  the  wondrous  necromancy  of  the 
sun,  pass  a  night  in  some  primeval  forest,  untouched  by  the 
hand  of  man.  Until  he  stands  in  the  awful  silence  of  the 
midnight  wood,  or  upon  some  vast  waste  of  nature,  no  man 
can  figure  to  himself  the  varied  shapes  the  mind  can  give  to 
terrors  based  upon  the  mysterious  noises  of  nature,  and  the 
goblin  motions  of  inanimate  things.  The  lover  thinking  of 
his  lass  welcomes  the  night  and  the  rapturous  walks  among 
well-known  scenes  and  kindly  objects.  With  glimmering 
lamps  in  the  foliage  and  the  not  distant  sounds  of  daily 
life,  even  the  woods  have  nothing  fearful  to  the  meditative 
or  the  distraught.  But  in  flight,  with  fear  as  a  garment 
that  can  not  be  laid  aside,  the  somber  forms  of  the  forest 
are  more  terrible  than  an  army  with  banners,  as  a  haunted 
19 


288  THE   IRON   GAME. 

house  is  a  more  unnerving  dread  than  burglars  or  any  form 
of  night  marauders.  It  was  at  night  that  the  mutinous  sail- 
ors of  Columbus  broke  into  decisive  revolt ;  it  was  at  night 
that  the  iron  band  of  Cortes  lost  heart,  and  were  routed  on 
the  lakes  of  Mexico ;  it  was  at  night  that  the  resolution  of 
Brutus  failed  before  the  disaster  at  Philippi. 

That  two-o'clock-in-the-morning  courage,  which  is  the 
secret  of  soldierly  success,  comes  only  from  companionship. 
The  night-wood  is  a  world  by  itself,  filled  with  its  own  at- 
mosphere, as  oppressive  to  valor  as  the  electric  reefs  that 
drew  the  nails  from  the  ships  of  Sindbad.  Among  familiar 
scenes  and  well-known  shapes,  it  is  all  the  delight  the  poets 
sing — so  tranquillizing,  inspiring,  fecund,  that  in  comparison 
the  thought  of  day  brings  up  garish  hues,  flaunting  figures — 
the  hardness,  harshness  and  unlovely  in  life.  But  night  in 
the  goblin-land,  where  Dick  found  himself  suddenly  deserted, 
with  fantastic  forms  swaying  in  the  lazy  wind,  would  have 
had  terrors  for  the  most  constant  mind ;  terrors  such  as  filled 
the  soul  of  Macbeth,  when  Birnam  wood  came  marching  to 
Dunsinane.  In  an  instant,  as  it  seemed  to  Dick's  exalted  and 
painfully  impressionable  sense,  every  separate  leaf,  branch, 
brier,  copse,  and  jungle,  was  endowed  with  a  voice  of  its 
own — hateful,  irritating,  mocking.  Swarms  of  peering  eyes 
hovered  in  the  air,  glowering  uncanny  menace  into  the  boy's 
wild,  dilating  vision. 

Brave,  even  to  recklessness,  Dick  was,  as  you  have  seen ; 
but  no  sooner  had  the  glimmer  of  Jack's  torch  flickered  and 
fluttered  into  the  black  distance,  making  place  for  the  mon- 
strous shapes,  the  luring  shadows,  and  threatening  forms 
encompassing  him,  than  Dick  threw  himself,  with  a  wailing 
shriek,  into  the  morass  in  a  wild  attempt  to  follow. 

In  an  instant  he  was  up  to  his  middle  in  mud  and  water. 
He  seized  the  prickly  branches  coiling  about  and  above  him ; 
he  gasped  in  prayerful  pleading,  the  home  teaching  still 
strong  in  him ;  but  there  was  no  answer,  save  the  crooning 
night-birds  and  the  croaking  frogs.  Slimy  things  touched 
his  torn  flesh;  whirring  birds  shot  past  him,  disturbed  in 
their  night  perches.  The  deadly  odor,  pungent  and  nause- 


PHANTASMAGORIA.  289 

ous,  of  a  thousand  exhaling  herbs,  filled  his  nostrils.  The 
darkness  grew,  instinct  with  threatening  forms.  He  gasped, 
struggled,  and  in  a  fervent  outburst  of  thanksgiving  re- 
gained the  dank  mound.  Ah,  there  was  life  on  that !  human 
life.  Jones  slept,  the  stertorous  sleep  of  delirium.  He  mur- 
mured brokenly.  Dick  was  too  terrified  to  distinguish  what 
he  said.  The  blaze  of  the  pine  knot  flared  from  side  to  side 
as  the  sighing  breeze  arose  from  the  brackish  pools,  protest- 
ing the  vitality  of  even  this  moribund  hades.  Ah  !  if  he 
could  but  lie  down  and  bury  his  face.  The  horses  ?  They 
were  feeding  tranquilly  yonder,  standing  up  to  their  knees 
in  mosses  and  water.  The  lines  that  tied  them  were  long. 
They  could  move  about.  This  was  some  comfort.  They 
were  more  human  than  the  dreadful  specters  that  filled  the 
place. 

Ah !  the  blessed,  blessed  light  that  flamed  out  from  the 
merry  pine-torch ;  he  didn't  wonder  that  half  the  Eastern 
world  worshiped  fire.  He  adored  it — blessed,  blessed  fire — 
the  sign  of  God,  the  beacon  of  the  human.  Hark !  What 
half-human— or  rather  wholly  inhuman— sounds  are  these 
that  alternate  in  unearthly  measure  ?  Surely  animal  nature 
has  no  voice  so  strident,  vengeful,  odious.  Can  it  be  animals 
of  prey  ?  No.  The  Virginia  forests  are  dangerous  only  in 
snakes.  Snakes  ?  Ah,  yes !  He  shrinks  into  shadow  against 
the  oak  at  this  suggestion ;  snakes  ?  the  deadly  moccasin, 
that  prowls  as  well  by  night  as  day.  Ugh !  what's  this  at 
his  feet — soft,  clammy,  shining  in  the  flaring  light  ?  He 
leaps  upon  the  smooth  tree-trunk,  growing  slantwise  in- 
stead of  perpendicular.  What  if  the  torch  and  the  odor  of 
flesh  should  draw  the  snakes  to  the  sleeper  ?  The  flame 
flares  in  wide,  lurid  curves,  revealing  the  outlines  of  the 
sleeping  man.  Heavens,  what  a  terrible  face !  He  moves  in 
spasmodic  contortions.  He  is  smothering.  The  veins  of  his 
neck  will  break  if  he  is  not  awakened. 

"  O  my  God !  my  God  !  have  mercy ! "  Dick  buries  his 
face  in  his  hands,  as  he  clings  desperately  to  the  smooth 
white-oak  trunk.  A  strange,  wild  strain,  like  a  detached 
chord  of  a  vesper  melody,  sounds  above  him !  It  is  the  whip- 


290  THE   IRON   GAME. 

poor  will— steadily,  continuously,  entrancingly  the  dulcet 
measure  is  taken  up  and  echoed,  until  the  slough  of  despond 
ssems  transformed  into  a  varying  diapason  of  melancholy 
minstrelsy.  He  dares  not  raise  his  head.  It  will  vanish  if 
he  moves.  He  crouches,  panting,  almost  exultant,  in  the 
sense  of  recovered  faculties,  or  rather  the  suspension  of 
numbing  fear.  How  long  will  it  last  ?  He  must  move ;  his 
limbs  are  cramped  and  aching.  He  raises  his  head.  Mortal 
powers !  the  torch  is  nickering  into  ashes !  Another  instant 
and  he  will  be  in  the  dark.  Dare  he  move  ?  Dare  he  seek 
the  distant  pine,  between  him  and  which  the  black  surface 
of  the  murky  sheet  shines,  dotted  with  uncanny  growth  and 
reptilian  things  ?  Yes ;  anything  is  better  than  the  hideous 
darkness  of  this  hideous  place. 

The  horse  he  rode  has  broken  his  leash  and  comes  to  him 
with  a  gentle  whinny,  as  if  asking  why  the  delay  in  such  a 
place.  "  Blessed,  blessed  God,  that  made  a  beast  so  human ! " 
He  caresses  it,  he  clings  to  its  neck  and  calls  to  it  piteously. 
Ah,  yes ;  the  dying  light.  He  must  renew  it.  He  slips  down 
upon  the  bare  back  and  urges  the  patient  beast  across  the 
brackish  morass.  Ah,  this  is  life  again  !  He  is  not  alone. 
This  noble  beast  is  human.  It  crops  the  tender  leaves  con- 
fidingly, and  swings  its  head  as  much  as  to  say :  "  Don't  fear, 
Dick ;  I'm  here.  I'll  stand  by  you ;  I  don't  forget  the  pains 
you  took  to  get  me  water,  and  that  particularly  toothsome 
measure  of  oats  you  cribbed  in  the  rebel  barn  near  "Williams- 
burg  ! " 

But  the  pine  knot  that  will  burn  is  not  so  easily  found. 
Dick  was  forced  to  go  a  long  way  before  he  came  upon  the 
resinous  sort.  He  brought  back  a  supply,  having  taken  the 
precaution  to  provide  matches  in  order  to  secure  his  way 
back.  The  quest  had  to  some  extent  lessened  the  morbid  or 
supernatural  forms  of  his  terrors.  They  all  returned,  how- 
ever, when,  having  dismounted,  he  forgot  to  tie  the  horse, 
and  it  wandered  off  in  search  of  herbage.  He  called,  but 
the  beast  made  no  sign  of  returning.  Alone  again.  Alone 
in  the  night ;  spectral  forms  about  him ;  the  sleeping  man 
adding  to  the  ghostliness  of  the  scene  by  his  incoherent 


PHANTASMAGORIA.  291 

mutterings,  his  hideous,  gulping  hreath,  his  ghastly,  blood- 
curdling outcries.  Then  through  the  gloom  the  shining 
outlines  of  the  white  oak,  like  shreds  of  shrouds  hung  on 
funeral  foliage.  Ah !  he  would  go  mad — he  must  hreak  the 
brutish  sleep  of  the  sick  man. 

"  Mr.  Jones,"  he  wails — and  his  own  voice — the  comical- 
ly commonplace  name,  "  Mr.  Jones,"  even  in  the  agony  of 
his  terror,  the  humor  of  the  conjuncture  glimmered  in  the 
boy's  crazed  intelligence,  and  he  laughed  a  wild,  maniacal 
laugh.  But  the  laugh  died  out  in  a  pulseless  horror.  The 
sick  man  uprose  on  his  elbow.  Dick,  above  him  on  the 
white-oak  trunk,  could  see  his  very  eyes  bloodshot  and  wan- 
dering. He  uprose,  almost  sitting.  He  passed  his  hand 
over  his  staring  eyes,  and  began  to  murmur: 

"  Did  you  bring  me  here  to  do  murder,  Elisha  Boone  ? 
You  have  bought  my  body,  but  you  never  bought  my  soul. 
No,  no !  I  will  not.  I  say  I  will  not.  Do  you  hear  ?  I  will 
not ! " 

He  glared  wildly ;  then,  his  eyes  meeting  the  full  flame 
of  the  torch,  he  laughed,  a  dreadful,  marrow-freezing  laugh, 
and  broke  out  again  in  clearer  tones:  "I  am  yours,  Elisha 
Boone,  but  my  boy  is  not  yours.  He  was  born  in  my  shape, 
but  he  has  his  mother's  soul.  He  will  be  a  man ;  he  will  be 
your  vengeance  ;  he  will  undo  all  his  father  has  done. 
You've  robbed  me;  you've  made  me  rob  others.  But  if  you 
touch,  if  you  look  at  my  boy,  my  first-born,  you  might  as 
well  hold  a  pistol  at  your  head.  I'm  no  longer  mad.  You 
must  treat  with  him.  Ah !  yes  ;  I'll  do  your  bidding  with 
the  others.  I'll  make  young  Jack  as  much  trouble  as  you 
ask,  but  you  must  make  a  path  of  gold  for  my  boy.  You 
must  give  him  what  you  have  robbed  from  me.  Felon  ? 
I'm  no  felon.  It  was  you  who  plotted  it.  It  was  you  that 
put  the  means  in  mad  hands.  I  can  face  my  family.  I  have 
no  shame  but  that  I  was  a  coward.  My  son !  He  is  no  cow- 
ard. He  is  a  soldier.  He  is  the  pride  of  the  Caribees.  He 
is  the  beloved  of — of — " 

The  gibbering  maniac,  exhausted  in  body,  still  incoher- 
ently raving,  sank  back  in  piteous  collapse,  a  terrifying 


292  THE   IRON   GAME. 

gurgle  breaking  from  his  throat,  while  his  tongue  absolutely 
protruded  from  his  jaws. 

Dick,  his  terrors  all  forgotten  in  a  new  and  overmaster- 
ing horror,  bethought  him  of  Jack's  admonition  about  the 
water.  He  slipped  down  from  the  tree,  gathered  the  large 
moist  leaves  that  clustered  near  the  pool  and  held  them  to 
the  burning  lips.  Jones  swallowed  the  drops  with  a  hideous 
gurgling  avidity,  clutching  the  boy's  hand  ravenously  to  se- 
cure a  more  copious  flow.  There  was  a  tin  cup  in  the  holster 
under  the  invalid's  head.  Taking  this,  Dick  dipped  up  water 
from  the  black  pool  between  the  green  leaves ;  the  hot  lips 
sucked  it  in  at  one  dreadful  gulp. 

"  More,  more ;  for  Grod's  sake,  more !  " 

Dick  filled  it  again,  and  again  it  was  emptied. 

"  More — more — I'm  burning — more !  " 

The  boy  was  cruelly  perplexed.  He  remembered  vaguely 
hearing  that  fever  should  be  starved ;  that  the  thing  craved 
was  the  dangerous  thing ;  and  he  moved  away  in  a  sort  of 
compunctious  terror. 

"  More — more !    Oh,  in  the  name  of  God,  more ! " 

The  words  came  gaspingly.  Dick  thought  of  the  death- 
rattle  he  had  heard  in  Acredale  when  old  man  Nagle,  the 
madman,  died.  He  dared  not  give  more  water,  but  he 
gathered  leaves  from  the  aromatic  bushes  and  pressed  them 
to  the  fevered  lips.  Before  he  could  withdraw  them,  the 
eager  jaws  closed  upon  the  balsamic  shrub.  They  answered 
the  purpose  better  than  the  most  scientific  remedy  in  the 
pharmacopoeia,  for  the  patient  called  for  no  further  drink, 
and  presently  fell  into  profound  and  undisturbed  sleep. 
Again  the  boy  was  alone  with  the  daunting  forces  of  the 
dark  in  its  grimmest  and  most  terrifying  mood.  Alone! 
No ;  his  mind  was  now  taken  from  all  thought  of  self.  He 
was  with  a  fellow-townsman.  The  man  had  mentioned 
Boone;  had  referred  to  deeds  that  he  had  heard  all  his  life 
associated  with  the  father  he  had  never  seen.  A  wild  thought 
flashed  upon  him.  Was  the  collapsed  body  at  his  feet  his 
father's  ?  He  could  not  see  any  resemblance  in  the  dark, 
handsome  face  to  the  portrait  at  home,  though  all  through 


PHANTASMAGORIA.  293 

the  flight  from  Richmond  something  in  the  man's  manner 
had  seemed  like  a  memory.  He  strove  to  recall  the  image 
his  young  mind  had  cherished,  the  personality  he  had  heard 
whispered  about  in  the  gossiping  groups  of  Acredale.  This 
was  not  the  gay,  the  brilliant,  the  fascinating  bon  viveur 
who  had  been  the  life  of  society  f rom  Warchester  to  Buceph- 
olo,  from  Pentica  to  New  York.  Ah !  what  were  the  mystic 
terrors  of  the  night,  what  the  oppressive  surroundings  of 
this  charnel-house  of  Nature,  to  the  awful  spectacle  of  this 
unmanned  mind,  this  delirious  echo  of  past  guilt,  past  cow- 
ardice, past  shame  ? 

To  lessen  the  somber  gloom,  Dick  had  lighted  many 
torches  and  set  them  about  the  high  mound  where  the  sleep- 
er lay  in  a  huddle.  Taking  little  heed  of  where  he  set  them, 
some  of  them,  as  the  wind  arose,  flared  out  until  their  flames 
licked  the  decayed  branches  of  the  fallen  white  oak.  As  the 
boy  crouched,  pensive  and  distraught,  he  was  suddenly 
aroused  by  a  vivacious  cracking.  He  looked  up.  Lines  of 
fire  were  darting  thither  and  yon,  where  dry  wood,  the  debris 
of  years  of  decay,  had  been  caught  in  the  thick  clumps  of 
underbrush  and  among  the  limbs  of  the  trees.  The  fire  had 
pushed  briskly,  and  the  uncanny  glade  was  now  an  amphi- 
theatre of  crawling  flames,  stretching  in  many-colored  ban- 
ners in  a  vast  circle  about  the  point  of  refuge.  Dick  gazed 
fascinated,  with  no  thought  of  danger.  His  spirits  rose.  It 
was  something  like  life — this  gorgeous  decoration  of  fire. 
How  beautiful  it  was !  How  it  brought  out  the  shining  lines 
of  the  white  oak,  the  glistening  green  of  the  cypress !  Why 
hadn't  he  thought  of  this  before  ?  Then,  as  the  curling 
waves  of  fire  pushed  farther  and  farther  up  the  stems  of  the 
trees,  and  farther  and  farther  endlessly^  into  the  under- 
growth, an  unearthly  outcry  and  stir  began.  Birds,  blinded 
by  the  light,  whirred  and  fluttered  into  the  open  space  above 
the  water,  falling  helplessly  so  near  Dick  that  he  could  have 
caught  and  killed  a  score  to  surprise  Jack  with  a  game  break- 
fast, when  he  returned.  Then — ugh ! — horror ! — great,  coiling 
masses  detached  themselves  from  the  tufts  of  sward,  and 
splashed  noisily  into  the  putrid  water,  wriggling  and  con- 


294  THE  IRON  GAME. 

vulsed.  The  invalid  still  slept— but,  dreadful  sight!  the 
coiling  monsters,  upheaving  themselves  from,  the  water, 
glided,  dull-eyed  and  sluggish,  upon  the  mossy  island,  about 
the  unconscious  figure. 

Dick,  fascinated  and  inert,  watched  the  snaky  mass, 
squirming  in  hideous  folds  almost  on  the  recumbent  body. 
Then,  aroused  to  the  horror  of  their  nearness,  he  seized  a 
torch  and  made  at  the  slimy  heap.  The  fire  conquered 
them.  They  slid  off  the  ground,  with  forked  tongues  dart- 
ing out  in.  impotent  malice.  But  others,  squirming  through 
the  water,  wriggled  up ;  and  the  boy,  maddened  by  the  dan- 
ger, stood  his  ground,  torch  in  hand,  defending  the  sleeper. 

But  now  the  fire  has  widened  its  swath,  and  is  enveloping 
the  tiny  island.  The  serpents,  hedged  in  from  the  outer  line, 
uprear  in  blood-curdling  masses,  their  dull  eyes  gleaming, 
and  their  tongues  phosphorescent,  darting  out  in  their 
agony.  Dick  doesn't  mind  them  now,  for  he  has,  for  the 
first  time,  begun  to  realize  that  his  illumination  has  destruc- 
tion as  the  sequel  of  its  delight.  Great  clouds  of  smoke  settle 
a  moment  on  the  water  and  then  rise,  impelled  by  the  cold 
surface.  Even  the  green  verdure  begins  to  roll  back  where 
the  crackling  flames  play  into  the  more  compact  wall  of  in- 
combustible timber.  The  sleeper  murmurs  in  his  dreams. 
Dick  casts  about  despairingly.  He  hears  the  horses — they 
have  broken  then*  tethers — he  can  hear  them  whinnying,  up- 
braidingly,  far  off.  Wherever  he  casts  his  eye,  volumes  of 
fire  dart  and  sway,  always  coming  inward,  first  scorching  the 
green  limbs,  then  fastening  on  the  tender  stems  and  turning 
them  to  glowing  lines  of  cordage ;  only  the  great  sheet  of 
water,  inky,  terrible,  and  threatening  a  few  hours  before, 
protects  him  and  his  charge.  The  hissing  snakes  have  sunk 
into  it. 

Bevies  of  birds,  supernaturally  keen  of  sight,  have  dropped 
upon  the  twigs  that  lie  on  the  glittering  bosom  of  the  water. 
Dick,  in  all  the  agonized  uncertainty  of  that  night  of  peril, 
thinks  with  wonder  on  the  mysterious  resources  Nature 
provides  its  helpless  outcasts.  The  hideous  shallows,  black, 
glistening,  are  now  a  belt  of  safety,  not  only  for  himself  and 


PHANTASMAGORIA.  295 

the  sleeper,  but  a  refuge  for  all  manner  of  whirring  birds 
and  crawling  things,  intimidated  and  harmless  in  the  stifling 
breath  of  the  fire.  The  flame,  leaping  from  sedge  to  sedge, 
from  trunk  to  trunk,  seems  to  seek,  with  a  human  instinct,  and 
more  than  human  pertinacity,  food  for  its  ravening  hunger ; 
far  upward,  where  festoons  of  moss  hung  from  the  sycamores 
in  the  day,  airy  banners  of  starry  sparks,  swayed,  coiled,  and 
flamed  among  the  branches.  But  Dick  was  soon  reminded 
that  the  scene  was  not  for  enjoyment,  however  fantastically 
fascinating. 

The  smoke,  at  first  rising  from  the  burning  brakes,  lodged 
among  the  tree-tops;  then,  meeting  the  humid  night-air  in 
the  matted  leaves,  descended  slowly.  Dick  found  himself 
nearly  smothered  when  he  had  partly  recovered  from  the 
spell-bound  wonder  of  the  demoniac  fete.  The  ground  under 
his  feet  f el  t  gratefully  cool.  He  bent  down,  and  shudderingly 
laved  his  burning  face  in  the  inky  water.  The  sick  man  had 
slept  more  peacefully  during  the  last  half-hour.  He  no 
longer  breathed  in  gasping  efforts ;  his  sleep  was  unbroken 
by  muttering  or  outcry.  But  now  he  must  be  aroused.  He 
must  be  taken  out  of  the  circle  of  fire,  for,  sooner  or  later, 
the  curling  waves  would  lick  downward  from  the  dry  vines 
above  and  scorch  the  mound.  How  to  get  away  ?  The 
horses  were  long  since  gone.  They  might  be  miles  from 
the  spot !  Dick  touched  the  sleeping  man,  filled  with  a  new 
suspense.  He  breathed  so  softly,  or  did  he  breathe  at  all  ? 

"  For  God's  sake,  Mr.  Jones,  wake  up !  We  must  go  from 
here ;  the  swamp  is  burning !  " 

"  Eh— who  is  it  ?  Where  am  I  ?  Was— I  dreaming  ?  I 
thought  my  boy  was  with  me,  and  we  were  in  the  old  home 
at  Acredale." 

He  lay  quite  still,  staring  upward  with  unseeing  eyes. 
Dick's  heart  gave  a  great  throb  of  grateful,  devout  thanks- 
giving. The  madness  and  fever  were  gone. 

"  You  remember  you  were  too  worn  out  to  go  on,  and 
Jack  has  gone  to  get  food.  But  the  swamp  has  caught  fire, 
and  we  must  move  away." 

Jones  had  risen  to  his  elbow;  then,  with  an  exclamation 


298  THE   IRON   GAME. 

that  sounded  like  an  oath,  to  his  feet,  gazing  on  the  flaming 
specters  rising  and  falling,  enlarging  and  shrinking,  among 
the  black  tracery  of  limbs  and  trunks. 

"  You  ought  to  have  waked  me  before,"  Jones  said,  when 
he  had  swept  the  scene,  with  sane  realization  in  his  eye. 
"I'm  afraid  we  can  never  break  through  the  tire.  It  reaches 
a  mile  or  more  all  about  us,  and  I — I  am  in  no  condition  to 
move.  I  feel  as  if  I  had  been  down  months  with  illness." 

"  But  if  you  could  eat  something  you  would  be  able  to 
move,"  Dick  ventured,  cruelly  hurt  at  the  implied  delin- 
quency. 

"  Eat ! "  Jones  held  up  one  of  the  luckless  torches  that 
Dick  had  lighted  in  a  circle  about  the  mound,  and  began  to 
examine  the  ground.  "  What  is  there  to  eat  ?  Stay !  By 
Heaven,  I  have  it!  The  bushes  are  filled  with  fluttering 
game.  There,  see  that !  and  that,  and  that !  "  As  he  spoke 
he  had  thrust  the  burning  torch  into  a  thick  clump  of 
bushes,  dense  and  glistening  as  laurels,  that  looked  like  wild 
huckleberry.  The  branches  were  laden  with  birds,  and  in  a 
moment  he  had  seized  three  or  four  partridges. 

"  What  better  do  we  need  ?  We  have  salt,  water,  and 
fire.  I'll  prepare  them.  Do  you  keep  your  face  well  bathed, 
and  heap  up  embers  at  the  foot  of  that  ash." 

Sure  enough,  sometimes  hidden  by  billows  of  smoke,  ris- 
ing lazily  among  the  burning  bushes,  Jones  stripped  the 
bii-ds,  spitted  them  on  his  bayonet,  and,  holding  them  in  the 
hot  coals,  soon  presented  a  well-browned  portion  to  his  com- 
panion. 

"  I  have  had  a  good  deal  worse  fare  than  this,  my  young 
friend.  I  have  been  in  the  West,  when  fire,  Indians,  and 
hunger  besieged  us  at  the  same  time.  But  we  should  have 
a  poor  chance  here  if  it  were  not  for  the  wet  grass  and  the 
everlasting  water.  If  we  can  manage  to  keep  clear  of  the 
smoke,  we  shall  be  all  right,  but  the  smoke  seems  to  grow 
denser.  Where  can  it  come  from  ? " 

"Great  Heavens!  do  you  hear  that?  Shots — one — two! 
That's  Jack's  signal.  He — he  is  near.  He  is  in  danger.  I 
must  go  to  him."  Dick  cried.  "Listen;  more  shots.  No, 


PHANTASMAGORIA.  297 

that  can't  be  the  signal.  There,  do  you  hear  that  ?  A  vol- 
ley. The  rebels  are  after  them,  or  we  are  near  the  outposts, 
and  the  two  armies  are  skirmishing." 

Yes ;  the  shots  now  sounded  more  frequently,  but  they 
seemed  to  be  fired  not  far  away. 

"  It  is  Jack.  I  know  it  is  Jack,  and  he  is  in  peril.  I 
must  go  to  him.  I  can  not  stay  here.  Surely  there  is  no 
danger  in  pushing  toward  the  firing  ?  " 

"There  is  every  danger.  In  the  first  place,  the  smoke 
will  smother  us.  Then  suppose  we  reached  the  spot  ?  We 
might  be  nearer  the  rebels  than  our  friends.  They  know 
where  we  are.  If  they  are  not  taken,  they  will  come  back 
for  us.  If  they  are  taken,  we  must  do  our  best  to  get  to  our 
lines  and  send  out  a  scouting  party.  Be  guided  by  me, 
youngster.  I  am  an  older  hand  in  business  of  this  sort  than 
you  are." 

The  boy  stood  irresolute.  Both  listened  intently.  The 
firing  had  stopped.  A  great  sough  of  rising  storm  came 
from  the  northwest,  carrying  a  hot,  blinding  mass  of  smoke 
and  flame  into  the  little  retreat.  They  flung  themselves  on 
the  damp  ferns  to  keep  their  breath.  Still  the  breeze  rose, 
until  it  became  a  wind — a  spasm  of  hurricane.  It  was  mad- 
ness to  linger,  for  the  flames  now  licked  the  ground,  driven 
down  anew  by  the  blast.  Then  Jones  spoke  decisively: 
"Strap  a  pine  torch  to  your  body.  I  will  do  the  same. 
Take  all  you  can  carry  and  follow  in  my  wake."  Jones,  as 
he  spoke,  seized  a  torch,  extinguished  it,  and  handed  it  to 
Dick.  Equipped  as  he  had  directed,  they  set  out,  half  crawl- 
ing, half  swimming,  to  avoid  the  volumes  of  smoke  hovering 
in  the  thick,  cactus-like  leaves  of  the  wild  laurel.  Presently 
they  emerged,  after  toil  and  misery,  that  excitement  alone 
enabled  the  boy  to  support,  into  what  seemed  a  cleared  space. 
But  as  soon  as  their  eyes  could  distinguish  clearly,  they 
found  themselves  on  the  edge  of  a  wide  pond.  The  fire  was 
now  behind  them.  They  could  stand  erect  and  breathe  the 
pure,  cool  air. 

"  Ah,  now  we  are  in  luck ! "  Jones  whispered.  "  We  will 
walk  to  the  right,  on  the  edge  of  this  lake,  and  keep  it  be- 


298  THE   IRON  GAME. 

tween  us  and  the  fire.  We  have  got  out  of  that  purgatory ; 
now  if  we  could  only  signal  our  friends." 

"  Hist ! "  whispered  Dick,  "  I  hear  some  one  moving  be- 
hind us. " 

They  crouched  down  in  the  thick  reeds  and  waited.  The 
sky  above  was  darkly  overcast;  an  occasional  burst  of  light- 
ning revealed  the  dimensions  of  the  pond,  and  they  could 
see  high  ground  on  the  eastern  shore,  covered  by  enormous 
pines. 

"  If  we  can  only  reach  the  pines  we  shall  be  all  right. 
There  the  ground  will  bo  dry  and  soft  and  you  can  get  some 
rest.  I'm  afraid,  my  boy,  it  will  go  hard  with  you  if  you 
don't." 

"  I  don't  mind  what  happens  if  we  can  only  come  up 
with  Jack.  There,  do  you  hear  that  ? " 

Yes,  both  could  plainly  hear  voices  ahead  of  them  on  the 
margin  of  the  pond.  They  were  talking  in  low  tones,  and 
the  words  were  undistinguishable. 

"  We  must  crawl  back  toward  the  bush,  and  get  as  near 
these  folks  as  we  can,"  Jones  whispered.  They  made  their 
way  easily  into  the  high  bushes  and  stole  forward  in  the  di- 
rection of  the  voices.  But  as  they  had  to  guard  against 
breaking  twigs  or  hurtling  branches,  which  would  have  be- 
trayed them,  their  advance  was  slow.  When  they  reached 
the  vicinity  where  they  had  fancied  the  voices  to  be,  all  was 
silent. 

"  Sound  the  call ;  perhaps  that  will  lead  to  something," 
Jones  whispered  in  Dick's  ear. 

But,  unnerved  by  the  trying  experience  of  the  night,  or 
worn  out  by  fatigue,  Dick's  call  was  far  from  the  significant 
signal  he  had  practiced  with  Jack.  He  repeated  it  several 
times,  but  there  was  no  response.  There  was,  however, 
something  more  startling.  A  few  rods  beyond  them  a  flame 
suddenly  shot  up,  lighting  a  group  of  cavalry  patrols  stand- 
ing beside  a  fire  just  kindled. 

"  Rebels ! "  Jones  whispered.  "  Now  we  must  be  slippery 
as  snakes.  If  they  have  no  dogs,  we  are  all  right.  If  you 
hear  the  whimper  of  a  hound,  follow  me  like  lightning  and 


PHANTASMAGORIA.  299 

plunge  into  the  water.  That'll  break  the  trail.  Stay  here 
and  let  me  reconnoitre  a  bit.  Have  no  fear.  I'll  go  in  no 
danger." 

Jones  crept  away,  leaving  Dick  by  no  means  easy  in  his 
mind,  but  he  no  longer  felt  the  terror  that  numbed  him  in 
the  deep  wood.  Here  there  was  companionship.  By  push- 
ing the  branches  aside  he  could  see  the  figures  lounging 
about  the  fire ;  he  could  see  the  dark  vault  of  the  sky,  and 
was  not  oppressed  by  the  hideous  shapes  and  shadows  of  the 
dense  jungle.  Jones  meanwhile  had  pushed  within  earshot 
of  the  group.  He  flattened  his  body  against  a  friendly  pine 
and  listened. 

"  I  reckon  they  ain't  the  Westover  niggers,  for  they  were 
traced  to  the  Pamunkey ;  these  rascals  are  most  likely  from 
the  south  side — " 

"  If  Jim  gets  here  with  the  dogs  in  an  hour,  we  can  be 
back  to  the  barracks  for  breakfast." 

"  Ef  it  hadn't  been  for  that  blamed  fire  in  the  swamp,  we 
should  have  had  them  before  this.  The  rascal  that  fired  at 
Tom  wasn't  a  musket-shot  from  me  when  the  smoke  poured 
out  and  hid  him." 

"  They've  gone  into  the  swamp.  The  dogs'll  soon  tree 
them.  I'm  going  to  turn  in  till  the  dogs  come.  One  of  you 
stay  awake  and  keep  a  sharp  eye  toward  the  creek." 

"  All  right,  sergeant.  You  won't  have  more'n  a  cat-nap. 
Bilcox's  dogs  are  over  at  the  ford,  I  know,  for  they  were 
brought  there's  soon  as  the  news  of  the  Yankee  escape  came." 

"  I  hope  they  are ;  but  I'm  afraid  they  are  not.  If  they 
are,  we  shall  soon  hear  them." 

Jones  had  heard  enough.  Hastening  back  to  Dick,  he 
asked : 

"Can  you  swim?" 

"  Yes,  I'm  a  good  swimmer." 

"Very  well;  throw  away  everything  —  no,  stay  —  that 
would  betray  us.  When  we  reach  the  water  bury  all  you 
can't  carry  in  the  sand  and  then  follow  me." 

They  were  forced  to  retrace  their  painful  way  through 
the  bushes  to  reach  a  place  as  distant  from  the  point  of  pur- 


300  THE   IRON   GAME. 

suit  as  possible.  A  half-mile  or  more  from  their  starting- 
place  they  found  themselves  in  a  running  stream.  Jones 
examined  it  in  both  directions,  and  bade  Dick  enter  it 
and  follow  in  the  water,  pushing  upward  in  the  bed,  waist- 
deep,  a  hundred  yards.  Then,  climbing  to  the  bank,  he 
groped  about  until  he  found  a  slender  white  oak.  Climbing 
this  as  high  as  he  could  get,  he  slowly  swung  off,  and,  the 
tree  bending  down  to  the  very  stream,  he  dropped  back  into 
the  water  and  rejoined  Dick.  Both  waded  in  the  middle  of 
the  stream  until  they  reached  the  pond,  and  then  struck  out 
toward  the  pine  clump  the  lightning  had  revealed  a  little 
while  before.  There  was  no  need  of  swimming,  and,  find- 
ing it  possible  to  wade,  Jones  decided  to  retain  the  pistols 
and  ammunition  which  he  had  at  first  resolved  to  tury  as 
impeding  the  flight.  The  bottom  appeared  to  be  hard  sand, 
a  condition  often  found  in  Southern  ponds  near  the  inflow 
of  the  sea.  They  had  gone  a  mile  or  more,  keeping  just  far 
enough  from  the  bank  to  remain  undistinguishable,  when 
the  appalling  baying  of  a  hound  sounded  from  the  farther 
end  of  the  pond,  where  the  patrol  fire  gleamed  faintly  among 
the  trees. 

"  Now,  youngster,  we  must  keep  all  our  wits  at  work. 
The  dogs  will  push  on  to  where  we  hid.  They  will  follow 
to  the  stream,  and  I  think  I  have  given  them  the  slip  there. 
Then  they  will  beat  about  and  follow  our  trail  into  the  cy- 
press swamp.  There  the  horses  will  mislead  them,  and  if 
you  can  only  hold  out,  so  soon  as  daylight  comes  we  can 
strike  into  the  pines  and  make  for  the  Union  lines." 

"  I-I— think  I  can-ah !-" 

Dick  reeled  helplessly  and  would  have  sunk  under  the 
water,  if  Jones  had  not  caught  him. 

"  Courage,  my  boy,  courage !  Don't  give  up  now,  just  as 
we  are  near  rescue ! " 

But  Dick  was  unconscious,  the  strain  of  the  early  part  of 
the  night,  the  desperate  fight  through  the  brakes,  all  had 
told  on  the  slight  frame,  and  Jones  stood  up  to  his  middle 
in  the  dark  water,  holding  the  fainting  boy. 


IN  THE   UNION   LINES.  301 

CHAPTER  XXVI. 

IN  THE  UNION  LINES. 

IF  there  is  reason  as  well  as  rhyme  in  the  old  song  that 
danger's  a  soldier's  delight  and  a  storm  the  sailor's  joy,  Jack 
and  his  comrade  were  in  for  all  the  delights  that  ever  glad- 
dened soldier  or  sailor  boy.  When  they  left  Dick  and  Jones, 
the  eager  couriers  tore  through  the  marshy  lowlands,  the 
stubbly  thickets  and  treacherous  quagmires,  poor  Barney, 
panting  and  groaning  in  his  docile  desire  to  keep  up  with 
his  leader,  as  he  had  done  often  in  boyish  bravado. 

"  There'll  not  be  a  rag  on  me  body  nor  a  whole  bone  in 
me  skin  when  we  get  out  of  this ! "  he  gasped,  as  they  reached 
high  ground  between  two  spreading  deeps  of  mingled  weeds 
and  water.  "  The  sight  of  us'd  frighten  the  whole  rebel 
army,  if  AVC  don't  come  on  them  aisy  loike,  as  the  fox  said 
when  he  whisked  into  the  hen-house." 

"  He  was  a  very  considerate  fox,  Barney.  Most  of  the 
personages  you  select  to  illustrate  your  notions  seem  to  me 
to  be  gifted  with  little  touches  of  thoughtfulness.  Barney, 
you  ought  to  write  a  sequel  to  JSsojf  There  never  was  out 
of  his  list  of  animal  friends  such  wise  beasts,  birds,  and  what 
not  as  you  seem  to  have  known." 

"  Jack,  dear,  if  a  man  lived  on  roses  would  the  bees  feed 
on  him?  If  he  ate  honeysuckle  instead  of  hard-tack  would 
he  be  squeezed  for  his  scents  to  fill  ladies'  smelling-bottles  ? " 

"  I  don't  know  that  sense  is  always  a  recommendation  to 
women,"  Jack  shifts  his  burden  to  say  tentatively,  as  Bar- 
ney, involved  in  a  more  than  commonly  obstinate  brier, 
loses  the  thread  of  this  jocose  induction. 

"  Ah,  Jack,  dear,  ye're  weak  in  ye're  mind  when  you  fall 
to  play  on  words  like  that." 

"You  mean  my  sense  is  small?" 

"  Not  that  at  all.  Sure,  it's  a  hero's  mind  ye  show  when 
you  can  find  heart  to  make  merry  at  a  time  like  this ! " 

"  Yes — ' he  jests  at  love  who  never  felt  a  throb.' " 

"  Then  you've  a  hard  heart — and  I  know  I  lie  when  I  say 


302  THE   IRON   GAME. 

it,  as  Father  Mike  McCune  said  to  himself  when  he  tuk  the 
oath  to  King  George  in  '98 — if  ye're  heart  never  throbbed  in 
Acredale  beyant,  for  there's  many  a  merry  one  cast  down 
entirely  that  handsome  Jack's  gone." 

"  Come,  come,  Barney ;  it's  dark,  and  I  can't  see  the  grin 
that  saves  this  from  fulsome  blarney." 

"  Indeed,  then—" 

"Hark!" 

Through  the  monotonous  noises  of  the  night  the  clank- 
ing of  steel  and  the  neighing  of  horses  could  be  heard  just 
ahead. 

"  We  must  move  cautiously  now,  Barney.  Try  to  put  a 
curb  on  your  tongue,  and  let  your  reflections  mature  in  your 
busy  brain." 

"  Put  me  tongue  in  bonds  to  keep  the  peace,  as  Lawyer 
Donigan  cautioned  Biddy  Gavan  when  the  doctor  said  she 
was  driving  the  parish  mad  with  her  prate." 

"  Sh ! — sh ! — you  noisy  brawl ;  we  shall  have  a  platoon  of 
cavalry  upon  us.  Even  the  birds  have  stopped  crooning  to 
catch  your  delicate  brogue ! " 

"  'Tis  only  the  ill-mannered  owl  that  makes  game  of  me 
— if — " 

"  Sh !  Come  on.  Bend  low.  Do  as  I  do — if  you  can  see 
me.  If  not,  keep  touch  on  my  arm." 

"  As  the  wolf  said  to  the  lamb  when  he  bid  him  take  a 
walk  in  the  wather." 

They  had  now  emerged  on  the  reedy  margin  of  the  dark 
pool  discovered  by  Dick  and  Jones  later.  All  was  silent. 
The  sky  was  full  of  stars — so  full  that,  even  in  the  absence 
of  the  moon,  there  was  a  transparent  clarity  in  the  air  that 
enabled  Jack  to  take  definite  bearings. 

"  This  must  be  an  outlet  of  the  York  Eiver,  the  stream 
we  saw  this  afternoon.  If  it  be,  then  we  are  not  far  from 
our  own  outposts.  The  troopers  we  heard  just  now  may  be 
Union  soldiers.  We  must  wait  patiently  to  let  them  dis- 
cover themselves.  Keep  abreast  of  me,  and  don't,  as  you 
value  your  life,  speak  above  a  whisper — better  not  to  speak 
at  all." 


IX   THE   UNION   LINES.  303 

"  That's  what  the  priest  said  to  Randy  Maloney's  third 
wife  when  she  complained  that  he  bate  her." 

"  Barney,  I'll  throttle  you  if  you  don't  keep  that  mill  you 
call  your  tongue  still." 

"  Ah,  I'll  hold  it  in  me  fist,  as  Mag  Gleason  held  her  jaw, 
for  fear  her  tooth  would  lep  out  to  get  more  room  to  ache." 

Jack  laughed.  "  If  we're  caught  it  will  be  through  your 
jokes,  for  bad  as  they  are  I  must  laugh  at  some  of  them." 

"  Dear,  oh  dear  no  ;  you  may  save  the  laugh  till  a  con- 
venient time,  as  Hugh  McGowen  kept  his  penances,  until  his 
head  was  clear,  and  there  was  no  whisky  in  the  jar." 

They  had  heen  pushing  on  rapidly — noiselessly,  during 
this  whispered  dispute,  and  now  found  themselves  at  the 
reedy  margin  of  a  wide  inlet,  where,  from  the  swift  motion 
of  the  water  and  the  musical  gurgling,  they  could  tell  they 
were  by  the  side  of  a  main  channel. 

"  We  must  push  on  southward,  and  see  if  there  is  a  cross- 
ing. If  we  come  to  one,  that  will  tell  us  where  we  are,  for 
it  will  be  guarded,  you  may  be  sure,"  said  Jack,  buoyantly. 

"  Yes,  but  I'd  rather  find  a  hill  of  potatoes  and  a  drop 
than  all  the  soldiers  in  the  two  armiH." 

"  You  are  not  logical,  Barney.  If  we  find  soldiers,  we'll 
find  rations  ;  though  I  have  my  doubts  about  the  sort  of 
'drop'  you'll  be  apt  to  find  down  here." 

"  There  was  enough  corn  in  the  field  beyant  to  keep  a  still 
at  work  for  a  winter,"  Barney  lamented  with  a  sigh,  recall- 
ing fields  of  grain  they  had  passed  near  Williamsburg,  which 
he  vaguely  alluded  to  as  "beyant." 

"  I  wish  some  of  the  '  still '  were  on  the  end  of  your 
tongue  at  this  moment." 

"  With  all  me  heart — 'twould  do  yer  sowl  good  to  see  the 
work  it'd  give  me  tongue  to  do  to  hould  itself,"  Barney  gasped, 
trying  to  keep  abreast  of  his  ra  viler.  "  Be  the  dark  eyes  of 
Pharaoh's  daughter  there's  a  field  beyant — yes,  and  a  she- 
been ;  d'ye  see  that  ? " 

They  had  suddenly  emerged  in  a  cleared  place.    Against 
the  horizon  they  could  distinctly  distinguish  the  outlines  of 
a  cabin,  the  "  shebeen  "  Barney  alluded  to. 
20 


304  THE   IROX   GAME. 

"  Yes,  we're  in  luck.  It's  a  negro  shanty.  We  shall  find 
friends  there,  if  we  find  anybody.  Now,  do  be  silent.'' 

"  If  the  field  was  full  of  girruls,  with  ears  as  big  as  sun- 
flowers, they  wouldn't  hear  me  breathe,  so  have  no  fear.  A 
hill  of  potatoes  all  eyes  couldn't  see  us  in  such  darkness  as 
this." 

For  dense  clouds  had  swiftly  come  up  from  the  west, 
covering  the  horizon.  After  careful  reconnoitring,  requir- 
ing a  circuit  of  the  clearing,  Jack  ventured  to  make  directly 
for  the  dark  outlines  of  the  cabin.  War  had  obviously  not 
visited  the  place,  for  as  they  passed  a  low  outhouse  the  startled 
cackle  of  chickens  sounded  toothsomely,  and  Barney  came 
to  a  delighted  halt. 

"  Sure  we'd  better  get  a  bite  to  ate  while  we  may,  as  th' 
ass  said  when  he  passed  th'  market  car,  for  who  knows  what'll 
happen  if  we  stop  to  ask  by  your  lave  ? " 

For  answer  Jack  gave  him  a  sharp  push,  and  the  discom- 
fited plunderer  hurried  on  with  a  good-humored  grunt.  All 
was  silent  in  the  cabin.  The  windows  were  slatted,  without 
glass,  and  the  door  was  unfastened.  Jack  pushed  in  boldly, 
leaving  Barney  to  gu tkd  the  rear.  Peaceful  snoring  came 
from  one  corner,  and  Jack,  shading  a  lighted  match  with  his 
hand,  looked  about  him.  In  the  hurried  glimpse  he  caught 
sight  of  an  old  negro  on  a  husk  mattress,  and  the  heads  of 
young  boys  just  beyond.  They  were  sleeping  so  soundly 
that  the  striking  of  the  match  never  aroused  them.  Jack 
had  to  shake  the  man  violently  before  the  profound  sleep 
was  broken. 

"  I  say,  wake  up  !  or  can  you  wake  ? " 

"  What  dat  ?  Who's  dar— you,  Gabe  ?  What  you 
'bout  ? " 

The  old  man  shuffled  to  a  sitting  posture,  and  Jack,  re- 
newing his  match,  held  it  in  the  negro's  blinking  eyes. 

"  Have  you  any  food  ?  We  are  Yankees,  and  want  some- 
thing for  companions  in  the  swamp.  Are  we  in  danger 
here  ?  We  heard  cavalry-men  on  the  other  side  of  the  pond ; 
are  they  rebel  or  Yankee  ? " 

At  this  volley  of  questions  the  bewildered  man  turned 


IN   THE   UNION   LINES.  305 

piteously  to  the  sleepers,  and  then  stared  at  Jack  in  per- 
plexity. 

"  'Deed,  marsa  captain,  I  don  no  noffin  'tall.  I — I  hain't 
been  to  de  crick  fo'  a  monf.  I'se  fo'bid  to  go  da— I — " 

"  Well,  well,  have  you  any  food  ?  Get  that  first,  and  then 
talk,"  Jack  cried,  impatiently. 

But  now  the  boys  were  awake,  and  Jack  had  to  give  them 
warning  to  make  no  noise.  Yes,  there  was  food,  plenty. 
Cooked  bacon,  hoe-cake,  and  cold  chicken,  boiled  eggs,  and, 
to  Barney's  immeasurable  joy,  sorghum  whisky.  The  hun- 
ger of  the  invaders  satisfied,  each  provided  himself  with  a 
sack  to  feed  the  waiting  comrades  ;  and  while  this  was  going 
on  they  extracted  from  the  now  reassured  negroes  that  the 
spot  was  just  behind  Warick  Creek,  near  Lee's  Mills  ;  that 
parties  of  rebels  from  the  fort  at  Yorktown  had  been  at  work 
building  lines  of  earthworks,  and  that  every  now  and  then 
Yankees  came  across  and  skirmished  in  the  woods  a  mile  or 
two  up,  in  the  direction  whence  Jack  had  come.  The  cabin 
was  only  a  step  from  the  main  road,  upon  which  the  rebels 
were  encamped — a  regiment  or  more.  Some  Yankee  pris- 
oners had  been  captured  early  in  the  morning,  and  were  in 
the  block-house,  a  short  distance  up  the  road. 

"  Can  you  lead  us  near  the  block-house  ? "  Jack  asked. 

"  I  reckon  I  can  ;  but  ef  I  do  they'll  shu'ah'  find  it  out, 
and  den  I'se  don,  'cos  Marsa  Hinton — he's  in  de  cavalry — 
he'll  guess  dat  it  was  me  dat  tuk  you  'uns  dar." 

"  Do  you  want  to  be  free  ?  Do  you  want  to  go  into  the 
Union  lines  ? " 

"  Free  !  oh,  de  Lor',  free  !  O  marsa  captain,  don't  fool 
a  ole  man.  Free  !  I'd  rudder  be  free  dan— dan  go  to  Jesus 
— almost." 

"  Have  you  a  wife— are  these  your  children  ?" 

"  My  ole  woman  is  up  at  Marsa  Hinton's ;  she's  de  nuss 
gal.  Dese  is  my  boys;  yes,  sah." 

"  Very  well ;  we're  going  into  the  Union  lines.  You 
know  the  country  hereabouts.  Help  us  to  find  our  friends 
in  the  swamp,  and  we  will  take  you  all  with  us,"  Jack  said ; 
but  feeling  a  good  deal  of  compunction,  as  he  was  not  so  sure 


306  THE   IRON   GAME. 

that  the  freedom  bestowed  upon  these  guileless  friends  might 
not,  for  a  time  at  least,  be  more  of  a  hardship  than  their 
happy-go-lucky  servitude.  Meanwhile,  in  the  expansion  of 
renewed  hopes  and  full  stomachs,  no  watch  had  been  kept 
on  the  outside  ;  a  tallow  dip  had  been  lighted,  and  the  whole 
party  busied  in  getting  together  such  necessaries  as  could 
be  carried.  One  of  the  boys,  passing  the  door,  uttered  a 
stifled  cry  : 

"Somebody  comin'  from  de  road." 

"  Where  can  we  hide?  Don't  put  out  the  light ;  that  will 
look  suspicious ! "  Jack  whispered,  making  for  the  window 
in  the  rear.  "  Is  there  a  cellar,  or  can  we  get  on  the  roof  I " 
But  the  dark  group  were  too  terrified  to  speak.  They  ran  in 
a  mob  to  the  doorway,  luckily  the  most  adroit  manoeuvre 
they  could  hit  upon,  for  with  the  dip  flaring  in  the  current 
of  air,  the  room  was  left  in  darkness.  Jack  and  Barney 
slipped  through  the  low  lattice,  and  by  means  of  a  narrow 
shed  reached  the  low  roof.  They  could  hear  the  tramp  of 
horses,  how  many  they  could  not  judge,  and  then  a  gruff 
voice  demanding: 

"  You,  Eafe,  what  ye  up  to  ?  "What  ye  got  a  light  burnin' 
this  time  o'  night  fo'  ?" 

"  'Deed,  marsa,  it's  nuffin' — fo'  God.  marsa !  I  was  gittin'' 
de  stomach  bottle  fo'  Gabe — he  eat  some  jelly  root  fo'  supper 
and  he's  been  powerful  sick— frow  his  insides  out — I—' 

"  Leave  your  horses,  boys.  Rafe's  got  some  of  Hinton's 
best  sorghum  whisky — you,  there,  nigger,  get  us  a  jug  and 
some  cups." 

How  many  dismounted  Jack  couldn't  make  out,  but  pres- 
ently there  was  a  heavy  tramping  in  the  cabin  and  then  a 
ferocious  oath. 

"  What  does  this  mean ;  why  have  you  got  all  these  traps 
packed  ?  Going  to  cut  to  the  Yankees !  Don't  lie,  now — 
you'll  get  more  lashes  for  it." 

Jack  listened  breathlessly.  Would  the  quavering  slaves 
have  presence  of  mind  to  divert  suspicion  ?  There  was  a 
pause,  and  then  the  old  man  cried,  pleadingly : 

"  We'se  gwine  to  lebe  dis  place ;  we's  gwine  up  to  de  house 


IN   THE   UNION   LINES.  307 

in  de  mornin'.  My  ole  woman  can't  come  down  heah  now, 
case  de  sojers  is  always  firm',  and  Mars'  Hiuton  told  us  to 
come  to  de  quarters,  sah." 

"I  don't  believe  a  word  of  it,  you  old  rascal.  I'll  see 
whether  Hinton  has  ordered  you  to  leave  here.  Likely 
story,  indeed;  leave  one  of  his  best  fields  with  no  one  to 
care  for  it.  Git  the  whisky  and  stop  your  mumbling.  You, 
there,  you  young  imps,  step  about  lively — do  you  heah  ? " 

There  was  the  sound  of  a  sharp  stroke,  then  a  howl  of 
pain  and  a  boisterous  laugh. 

"  You  keep  an  eye  on  the  rear  and  I  will  see  how  many 
horses  there  are,"  Jack's  lips  murmured  in  Barney's  ear. 
He  slid  cautiously  down  the  slanting  roof  until  he  came  to 
the  corner  where  he  saw  the  dark  group  of  horses.  There 
were  three— tied  to  the  peach-trees.  He  made  his  way  back 
to  Barney  and  whispered: 

"  There  are  but  three  horses.  If  you  are  up  to  an  advent- 
ure I  think  we  can  make  this  turn  to  our  profit." 

"  I'm  up  to  anything,  as  the  cat  said  when  Biddy  Hiks's 
plug  ran  her  up  the  crab-tree." 

"Very  well.     Come  after  me." 

The  sorghum,  meanwhile,  had  been  handed  to  the  raid- 
ers in  the  cabin,  and  the  men  could  be  heard  making  merry. 

"  You,  Gabe,  go  out  and  mind  the  horses ;  see  that  they 
don't  twist  the  bridles  about  their  legs." 

Gabe  sallied  out  and  one  of  his  brothers  with  him.  As 
they  neared  the  horses  Jack  came  upon  them,  and  taking 
the  elder,  Gabe,  in  the  shadow  of  the  house,  he  whispered: 

"  Have  the  soldiers'  pistols  ? " 

"Yes,  sah." 

"  Where  are  they  ? " 

"  De  put  dem  on  de  stool,  neah  de  doah." 

"  Good.     How  many  ? " 

"Free." 

"  Have  they  swords  ? " 

"Yes,  sah." 

"Where  are  they?" 

"  On  de  stool,  too." 


308  TJIE   IRON   GAME. 

"  That  will  do ;  keep  with  the  horses,  and  don't  be  fright 
ened  if  you  hear  anything.  We'll  give  you  freedom  yet,  if 
you'll  be  prudent." 

He  could  hear  the  men  grumbling  because  the  food  was 
not  enough  to  go  around.  The  liquor  had  begun  to  work 
in  their  systems,  drinking  so  lavishly,  and  without  nour- 
ishment to  absorb  its  fiery  quality.  Jack  let  enough  time 
pass  to  give  this  ally  full  play  hi  disabling  the  troopers,  then 
taking  Barney  to  the  rear  of  the  cabin,  whispered : 

"  I  will  dash  in  at  the  door,  seize  the  weapons,  and  de- 
mand surrender.  You  make  a  great  ado  here;  give  com- 
mand, as  if  there  were  a  squad.  The  boys  will  make  a  loud 
clatter  with  the  horses,  and  we  shall  bag  the  game  withqut 
a.  blow.  Now,  be  prudent,  Barney,  and  we  will  go  into  the 
Union  lines  in  triumph." 

Inside  the  men  were  laughing  uproariously,  mingling 
accounts  of  love  and  war  in  a  confused  medley — how  a 
sweetheart  in  Petersburg  was  only  waiting  for  the  stars  on 
her  lover's  collar  to  make  him  happy;  how  the  Yankees 
would  be  wiped  out  of  the  Peninsula  as  soon  as  Jack  Ma- 
gruder  got  his  nails  pared  for  fight  ;  how  three  Yankees 
had  been  gobbled  that  day,  and  how  others  were  in  the  net 
to  be  taken  in  the  morning.  The  bacchanal  was  at  its  high- 
est when  Jack,  dashing  into  the  open  doorway,  placed  him- 
self between  the  drinkers  and  their  arms,  and  cried,  sternly, 
as  he  pointed  his  pistol  at  the  group : 

"Surrender,  men  !    You  are  surrounded  !" 

"  Close  up,  there  !  Keep  your  guns  on  a  line  with  the 
windows;  don't  fire  till  I  give  the  order  !"  Barney  could  be 
heard  at  the  window  in  suppressed  tones,  as  he,  too,  covered 
the  maudlin  company.  Gabe  and  his  brother  added  to  the 
effect  of  numbers  by  clattering  the  stirrups  of  the  horses,  so 
that  the  clearing  seemed  alive  with  armed  men. 

The  troopers,  sobered  and  astonished,  half  rose,  and  then 
as  these  sounds  of  superior  force  emphasized  the  menace  of 
Jack's  pistol  in  front  and  Barney's  in  the  rear,  they  sank 
back  in  their  seats,  the  spokesman  saying,  tipsily : 

"  I  don't  see  as  we've  much  choice." 


IN   THE   UNION   LINES.  309 

"No,  you  have  no  choice. — Sergeant,  bring  in  the  cords," 
Jack  ordered. 

Barney  at  this  came  in  with  a  clothes-line  Jack  had  pre- 
pared from  the  negroes'  posts.  The  arms  of  the  three  men 
were  bound  behind  them,  and  then  Jack  retired  with  his  aide 
to  hold  a  council  of  war.  Without  the  negro  they  could 
never  retrace  their  way  to  Dick.  But  how  could  they  carry 
the  prisoners  with  them  ?  Manifestly  it  could  not  be  done.  It 
was  then  agreed  that  Barney  should  take  the  prisoners,  the 
horses,  and  the  old  man,  with  the  younger  boys,  and  make 
for  the  Union  lines,  not  a  mile  distant.  Jack,  meanwhile, 
with  little  Gabe,  would  go  to  the  rescue  of  Dick.  If  firing 
were  heard  later,  Barney  would  understand  that  his  friends 
were  in  peril,  and,  if  the  Union  outposts  were  in  sufficient 
strength,  they  could  come  to  the  rescue,  and,  perhaps,  add 
to  the  captures  of  the  night.  Barney  was  now  serious 
enough.  He  was  reminded  of  no  joke  by  the  present 
dilemma,  and  remained  very  solemn,  as  Jack  enlarged  on 
the  glories  of  the  proposed  campaign.  How  all  Acredale 
would  applaud  the  intrepidity  of  its  townsmen  snatching 
glory  from  peril  !  Barney  consented  to  leave  him  with  re- 
luctance, suggesting  that  the  "  ould  nagur "  could  take  the 
prisoners  "beyant." 

"  Gabe  has  shown  sense  and  courage,  and  I  shall  be  much 
more  likely  to  reach  Dick  and  extricate  him  and  Jones,  alone, 
than  if  I  had  this  cavalcade  at  my  heels." 

Jack  and  Barney  were  forced  to  laugh  at  the  big-eyed 
wonder  in  old  Rafe's  eyes  when  he  was  informed  of  the  im- 
posing part  he  was  to  play  in  the  warlike  comedy.  To  be 
guard  over  "  white  folks,"  to  dare  to  look  them  in  the  face 
without  fear  of  a  blow,  in  all  his  sixty  years  Rafael  Hinton 
had  never  dreamed  such  a  mission  for  a  man  of  color.  The 
troopers,  too  tipsy  and  subdued  to  remark  the  sudden  paucity 
of  the  force  that  had  overcome  them,  were  tied  upon  their 
own  steeds,  Barney  in  front  of  the  leader,  and  Rafe  and  his 
son  in  charge  of  the  two  others. 

Rafe  led  the  way  in  trembling  triumph.  He  knew  the 
ford,  indeed,  every  foot  of  the  country,  and  had  no  misgiv- 


310  .       THE   IRON   GAME. 

ings  about  reaching  the  Union  lines.  Jack  watched  the 
squad  until  it  disappeared  in  the  fringe  of  trees,  and  then, 
turning  to  the  tearful  Gabe,  said,  encouragingly : 

'•'  Now,  we  must  do  as  well  when  we  go  among  the  Union 
soldiers.  You  know  the  point  in  the  swamp  I  have  told 
about.  How  long  will  it  take  us  to  reach  that  the  shortest 
way  ? " 

"  Ef  we  had  dad's  dugout  we  could  save  right  smart." 

"  You  mean  we  could  get  there  by  water  ? " 

"Yes,  sah.     We  ken  go  all  froo  de  swamp  in  a  boat." 

"  Then  I'm  afraid  it  is  not  the  place  I  mean,  for  we  found 
as  much  land  as  water." 

''Dey  ain't  no  odder  swamp  neah  heah,  sah." 

"  Well,  we'll  try  my  route  first.  If  that  misleads  us,  we 
shall  try  the  boat.  Can  you  find  it  ? " 

"Suah." 

"  Where  is  it  ? " 

"Ober  neah  the  blockhouse.  De  sogei*s  done  tuk  it  to 
fish." 

"  Ah,  yes,  the  blockhouse  !  I  must  look  into  that  !  Now, 
we  must  hurry.  Skirt  the  edge  of  the  water  and  make  no 
noise." 

This  was  a  needless  warning  to  the  boy,  who,  barefooted 
and  scantily  clad,  gave  Jack  as  much  as  he  could  do  to  keep 
up  with  him.  They  had  left  the  cabin  a  mile  or  more  behind 
them  to  the  southeastward,  and  were  somewhere  near  the 
spot  Jack  had  emerged  from  the  cypress  swamp,  when  both 
were  brought  to  a  halt  by  shifting  clouds  of  smoke  pouring 
out  from  the  underwood. 

"  Where  does  that  come  from  ? "  Jack  asked,  throwing 
himself  flat  to  catch  his  breath. 

"  Dunno,  sah.  Most  'likely  de  sojers  sot  de  brush  on 
fiah." 

When  Jack  was  able  to  look  again  he  saw  far  in  among 
the  trees  a  moving  wave  of  light  now  and  then,  as  the  heavy 
curtain  of  smoke  was  lifted  by  the  wind. 

"Good  heavens  !"  he  ejaculated;  "it  was  in  there  I  left 
my  friends.  Can  we  get  to  them  ? " 


IN  THE   UNIOX  LINES.  311 

"  No,  sah;  der  ain't  no  crick  dab." 

"  Then  ! "  Jack  thought,  "  have  I  sacrificed  Dick  and 
Jones  in  my  seal  to  be  adventurous  ?  Ten  minutes  sooner, 
and  we  could  have  gone  in  and  brought  them  out.  But  I 
will  find  a  way  in,  if  I  have  to  clamber  over  the  tree- 
tops." 

The  noise  of  whirring  wings,  the  rush  of  startled  animals, 
now  drowned  all  other  sounds,  until,  through  the  tumult 
from  the  copse  far  hi  front  of  them,  they  heard  the  clatter 
of  swords,  and  then  gigantic  figures  breaking  toward  them, 
along  the  edge  of  the  pond. 

"  Down,  down ;  hug  the  ground ! ''  Jack  cried,  pushing 
the  boy  down  into  the  reeds.  Almost  as  they  sank,  a  group 
of  troopers  dashed  by,  talking  excitedly. 

"  Fire  at  random,  men ;  that  will  force  them  into  cover ! 
If  we  can  keep  them  in  ambush  till  daylight,  the  dogs  will 
be  here,  and  we  shall  nab  them,"  Jack  heard  a  voice  say  as 
the  men  rode  past. 

How  could  they  have  heard  of  the  affair  so  quickly,  for 
Jack  took  it  for  granted  that  it  was  his  exploit  that  the 
troopers  were  afoot  to  balk  ?  Still  another  group  passed, 
and  they  were  talking  of  the  dogs  that  were  expected. 

"  You  may  depend  upon  it,  they  are  in  the  swamp.  They 
are  making  off  that  way  and  hope  to  mislead  us  by  firing  the 
place.  We  must  keep  our  eyes  peeled  on  the  swamp.  The 
creek  will  stop  them  down  yonder,  and  we  must  watch  this 
break  in  the  brush.  As  soon  as  the  dogs  come  we  shall  have 
no  trouble.  They'll  run  'em  down  in  no  time. " 

Jack  had  heard  enough  to  warn  him  that  it  was  useless 
to  try  to  penetrate  the  swamp.  With  half  of  his  usual  wit, 
Dick  would  have  been  en  route  long  before  this,  for  the  fiery 
glow  in  the  woods  showed  that  the  flames  had  been  raging 
some  time.  Unless  Jones's  illness  had  handicapped  him, 
Dick  would  be  on  his  way,  following  Jack's  route  as  closely 
as  the  darkness  would  permit.  But  now  he  must  seek  means 
to  evade  the  dogs.  This  could  be  done  only  by  reaching  the 
water  and  getting  into  it  far  from  the  point  where  they  pro- 
posed to  leave  it. 


312  THE   IROX   GAME. 

"  Can  you  find  the  boat  ? "  he  asked  Gabe,  who  chattered 
between  his  teeth. 

"I  fink  so,  sah." 

*  "  Very  well ;  we  must  find  a  small  stream  running  into 
the  pond,  and  then  lead  me  to  the  boat." 

"  Moccasin  Brook  is  close  yonder,  sah.     Shall  I  go  dah  ? " 

"Yes,  like  lightning." 

In  a  few  minutes  they  were  in  a  sluggish  current,  run- 
ning between  masses  of  reeds  and  spreading  lily -leaves,  into 
the  pond.  Here  Jack  repeated  Jones's  manoeuvre,  except 
that  he  was  not  wise  enough  in  woodcraft  to  make  use  of 
a  tree  to  get  into  the  water,  and  thus  leave  the  dogs  at  the 
end  of  the  trail  at  a  point  far  removed  from  his  real  en- 
trance into  it.  When  they  had  reached  the  pond,  Jack  bade 
the  boy  lead  to  the  boat.  This  they  found  moored  under  a 
bluff,  and  Gabe,  pointing  upward,  said  the  blockhouse  was 
there. 

"  Very  well,  you  stay  here  in  the  boat  and  wait  for  me. 
Don't  stir,  don't  speak,  no  matter  what  you  see  or  hear. 
Will  you  do  this  ?  " 

"  Oh,  yes,  sah ;  'deed,  'deed  I  will,  sah !  " 

Jack  crawled  up  the  bank,  keeping  in  the  shadow  of  the 
uneven  ground,  until  he  reached  a  point  whence  he  could 
make  out  the  blockhouse.  It  was  a  half -finished  structure 
of  rough  logs,  and,  from  the  stakes  and  other  signs  of  en- 
gineering preliminaries,  he  saw  that  it  was  intended  as  the 
guard-house  of  a  fortification.  He  could  hear  the  drawl  of 
languid,  half-sleepy  voices,  and,  as  he  pushed  farther  to  the 
eastward,  saw  a  group  of  troopers  lounging  about  a  dying 
fire.  A  sentry  sat  before  the  doorway,  which  had  no  door. 
He  was  dozing  on  his  post,  though  now  and  then  he  aroused 
himself  to  listen  to  the  comments  of  the  men  at  the  fire. 
While  Jack  waited,  irresolute  what  to  do,  a  volley  sounded 
across  the  pond,  evidently  the  fellows  whom  he  had  seen, 
keeping  up  the  fusillade  to  distract  the  fugitives. 

"  They've  wasted  enough  lead  to  fight  a  battle,"  he  heard 
one  of  the  men  say,  scornfully. 

"  Well,  that's  what  lead's  for,"  a  philosopher  remarked, 


IN  THE  UNION   LINES.  313 

stirring  the  embers.  "  So  it  don't  get  under  my  skin,  I  don't 
care  a  cuss  what  they  do  with  it." 

"  Oh,  your  skin's  safe  enough,  Ned.  You  may  adorn  a 
gallows  yet." 

''  If  I  do,  you'll  be  at  one  end  of  the  string — and  I  ain't 
a-saying  which  end,  neither,"  the  other  retorted,  taking  a 
square  segment  of  what  looked  like  bark,  but  was  really  to- 
bacco, and  worrying  out  a  circle  with  his  teeth,  until  he  had 
detached  a  large  mouthful.  This  affording  his  jaws  all  the 
present  occupation  they  seemed  capable  of  undertaking,  the 
other  resumed  when  the  haw-haw  that  met  the  sally  had 
subsided : 

"  Yes,  it  takes  two  to  make  a  hangin',  just  like  it  takes  two 
to  make  a  weddin',  and  you  can't  allus  say  just  sartin  which 
one  has  the  lucky  end.'" 

This  facetious  epigram  was  duly  relished,  and  the  sage 
was  turning  his  toasted  side  from  the  fire  to  present  the 
other,  when  the  clatter  of  a  horse  coming  up  the  hillside 
sent  the  group  scouring  toward  their  guns,  stacked  near  the 
unfinished  walls. 

''  Sergeant  Bland,  the  captain  orders  you  to  take  four  men 
and  station  them  along  the  north  shore  of  the  pond.  The 
rascals  are  in  the  cypress  swamp,  and  are  making  their 
way  out  toward  Moccasin  Creek.  One  man  can  watch  the 
block-house,  and  the  rest  come  with  me. — Guard,  we  shall 
be  within  a  hundred  yards  of  you.  A  shot  will  bring  a 
dozen  men  to  your  assistance;  but  it  isn't  likely  an  enemy 
can  reach  this  point.  The  whole  regiment  is  deployed  in 
the  woods." 

This  was  said  to  the  sentry  as  the  group,  detailed  for  Moc- 
casin Creek,  filed  off  at  a  double-quick  down  the  hill.  In  a 
few  moments  the  blockhouse  was  deserted,  save  by  the  sen- 
try, who  had  now  risen  and  was  vigorously  pacing  before 
the  doorway.  Now  was  Jack's  time,  if  ever.  If  he  could 
only  whisper  to  one  of  the  prisoners  to  call  the  sentry.  But 
how  ?  He  had  nothing  to  fear  in  approaching  the  rear,  and 
in  a  few  moments  he  had  examined  the  walls.  There  was  no 
opening  where  he  could  get  speech  with  those  inside.  What 


314:  THE   IROX   GAME. 

could  he  do  ?  To  boldly  fall  upon  the  sentry  was  risky,  for 
the  slightest  noise  would  bring  rescue  from  the  front  of  the 
bluff.  At  the  base  of  the  wall,  where  the  log-joists  rested 
upon  a  huge  bowlder,  his  quick  eye  detected  an  air-hole.  He 
examined  it  hurriedly.  It  was  evidently  below  the  flooring. 
So  much  the  better.  Putting  his  mouth  to  this,  he  called  out 
in  a  piteous  tone : 

"  For  God's  sake,  sentry,  give  me  some  water !  I'm  chok- 
ing—oh— oh  water !  water !  " 

He  waited  to  see  if  the  sentry  would  heed  the  call.  He 
knew  that  the  men  inside  could  not  betray  him,  for,  if  they 
were  not  asleep,  they  could  not  be  sure  that  the  voice  was 
not  from  among  themselves.  Sure  enough,  the  sentry's  step 
ceased.  Was  he  near  the  door  ?  Jack  crept  to  the  corner. 
Yes,  he  had  halted  at  the  aperture.  Would  he  enter  ?  Jack 
stepped  back  to  his  post,  as  the  guard  called  out: 

"  Where  are  you  ?  Which  of  you  wants  water  ?  Sing 
out ! " 

"Here!"  Jack  cried.  ''Here!"  Then  darting  back  to 
the  corner,  he  was  just  in  time  to  see  the  man  lean  his  gun 
against  the  door-post,  and  disappear  in  the  hut.  In  an  in- 
stant the  gun  was  in  Jack's  possession,  and  he  was  behind 
the  Samaritan  in  quest  of  the  suffering  victim.  It  was 
dark  as  a  tunnel.  Jack's  victim  still  gave  him  the  aid  he 
needed,  for,  as  he  groped  along  the  wall,  he  said,  good- 
humoredly  : 

"  Sing  out  again,  my  friend;  I  haven't  got  cat's  eyes." 

Jack's  grasp  was  on  his  throat  and  Jack's  mouth  was  at 
his  ear. 

"  One  sound,  one  word,  and  this  knife  goes  to  the  hilt  in 
your  heart ! " 

The  astounded  man  half  reeled  at  this  awful  apparition 
in  the  black  darkness,  and  he  limply  yielded  to  his  captor 
under  the  impression  that  the  prisoners  were  loose  and  upon 
him.  Jack  tied  the  man's  unresisting  hands  with  his  own 
canteen-straps ;  then  seated  him  near  the  wall  and  lighted  a 
match.  Four  men,  undisturbed  by  this  swift  and  noiseless 
coup,  were  stretched  on  the  board  floor,  breathing  the  heavy, 


IN  THE  UNION  LINES.  315 

deep  sleep  of  exhaustion.  Jack  aroused  them  with  the 
greatest  difficulty,  and  found  it  still  harder  to  make  them 
understand  that,  with  courage  and  resolution,  they  would  be 
back  in  their  own  lines  by  daylight.  When  this  became 
clear  to  them  they  were  as  eager  and  energetic  as  their  res- 
cuer. The  men  were  to  remain  near  the  blockhouse,  but 
not  in  it,  until  Jack  returned  for  the  negro,  and  then  under 
the  lad's  guidance  they  could  find  their  way  to  the  Union 
outposts.  Just  as  this  was  decided,  a  blood-curdling  baying 
of  bloodhounds  echoed  across  the  pond  from  the  distant 
cabin.  Jack  trembled,  his  mind  at  once  on  Dick,  so  near 
and  yet  so  far  from  him  now,  in  this  new  danger.  There 
was  not  a  moment  to  be  lost.  Perhaps  even  now  all  the 
night's  hard-won  victories  were  to  be  turned  to  worse  than 
defeat— prison,  death ;  for  the  liberation  of  slaves  was  at 
that  time  punishable  by  hanging  in  the  rebel  military 
code. 

"  Courage,"  he  said  to  himself,  grimly ;  "  courage,  a  dog's 
no  worse  than  a  man.  We've  overcome  them  to-night,  we 
ought  to  be  able  to  tackle  the  dogs."  This  new  danger 
changed  his  plan  slightly.  Instead  of  leaving  all  the  men, 
he  took  one  of  the  rescued  four,  Tom  Denby  by  name,  with 
him,  and  set  out  for  the  water.  But  here  another  check 
met  him.  He  suddenly  recalled  that  the  guard  at  the  block- 
house had  been  scattered  along  the  shore  to  watch  the  de- 
bouch from  the  swamp.  This  enforced  a  wide  detour,  bring- 
ing him  out  in  the  rear  of  the  boat  and  nearer  the  point 
where  Moccasin  Creek  emptied  into  the  pond.  They  reached 
it  finally,  and  skirting  along  the  shore  kept  a  keen  eye  on 
the  water  for  the  boat.  They  had  skurried  along  half-way 
back  toward  the  bluff,  listening  for  a  sound  on  the  water  and 
peering  into  the  black  surface,  when  Denby  suddenly  touched 
Jack's  arm. 

"  There's  a  horse  or  cow  standing  in  the  water  yonder. 
I've  seen  it  move ;  there,  look ! " 

Yes,  outlined  against  the  low  horizon,  a  monstrous  shape 
could  be  plainly  seen.  The  yelp  of  the  hounds  suddenly 
broke  through  the  air  back  of  them  toward  the  creek.  The 


316  THE   IRON   GAME. 

monstrous  figure  started,  moved  heavily  forward,  then 
seemed  as  if  coming  toward  them.  Both  waited,  wonder- 
ing, curious,  terrified.  It  was  within  a  rod  of  them,  stagger- 
ing, gasping. 

"  Oh,  God  help  us !  I  can  go  no  farther ;  better  be  taken 
than  both  drown  together." 

Jack  could  hardly  repress  a  cry : 

"  Jones — Dick !    Is  it  you  ? " 

But  whoever  it  was  or  whatever  it  was  had  no  speech  to 
answer  this  eager  inquiry.  They  would  have  sunk  in  the 
shallow  water  if  Jack  and  Denby  had  not  caught  them. 
Jack  had  food  with  him,  and,  better  than  all,  the  bottle  of 
sorghum  whisky.  With  this  restorative,  both  were  soon 
able  to  sit  upon  the  ground  and  eat.  Jack  left  Denby  to 
feed  them,  while  he  went  in  search  of  the  boat.  He  found 
it  just  where  he  had  left  it,  and  in  a  few  minutes,  at  the  head 
of  his  little  band,  he  was  back  at  the  blockhouse.  The  food 
and  Jack's  hastily  told  news  had  restored  Dick  to  something 
like  his  old  f riskiness. 

"Jericho!"  he  cried,  as  the  released  prisoners,  having 
held  back  warily  until  the  color  of  the  new-comers  was 
known,  ran  forward.  "  The  whole  army  is  here.  I  feel  as 
if  I  were  in  the  Union  lines." 

"  Well,  you  ain't,  by  a  long  shot,"  Denby  cried.  "  We've 
got  a  good  hour's  march,  and  if  you're  wise,  Captain  Sprague, 
you  won't  waste  time  for  any  frills." 

"No  time  shall  be  wasted. — Jones,  you  and  Dick  take 
the  rear.  I,  with  Denby,  will  skirmish  ;  and  you,  Corporal 
Kane,  shall  command  the  center.  No  firing,  remember, 
unless  superior  force  assails  us. — Gabe,  stick  to  the  water- 
side as  closely  as  you  can,  but  make  the  shortest  cut  to  the 
bridge." 

Gabe  was  the  most  delighted  darkey  in  all  Virginia  for 
the  next  hour.  He  led  them  swiftly  and  surely,  and  why 
shouldn't  he  ?  He  had  passed  all  his  life  in  the  vicinity, 
and  with  the  first  beams  of  the  sun  he  pointed  to  a  narrow 
wooden  bridge. 

"  Dar's  whar  de  pickets  fire  across." 


"THE   ABSENT    ARE   ALWAYS   IN   THE   WRONG."      31 J 

As  they  passed  the  bridge  a  loud  sound  of  rushing  horses 
could  be  heard  in  the  distance. 

"  Dick,  you  take  two  men  and  hurry  down  the  road  to 
assure  our  pickets  that  we  are  friends.  We'll  take  up  the 
planks  to  give  them  time !  "  Jack  shouted,  and  Dick,  with  two 
of  the  rescued  prisoners,  dashed  away.  Many  hands  and 
high  hope  made  short  work  of  the  light  timbers.  As  the 
pursuing  cavalry  turned  the  bend  in  the  road,  in  sight  of 
the  bridge,  Jack's  squad  gave  them  a  volley  and  then  dashed 
into  cover.  The  fire  was  returned.  Dick,  coming  back  at  a 
run,  with  a  dozen  dismounted  men,  heard  the  bullets  whis- 
tling over  his  head  and  saw  Jack's  posse  dispersing  to  the 
right  and  left  in  the  bushes.  All  were  forced  into  the  woods, 
as  the  rebels  commanded  the  highway. 

"  Where  is  Jack  ? "  Dick  asked,  rushing  among  the 
men.  No  one  had  noticed  him  in  the  panic.  He  was 
not  in  the  huddle  that  cowered  in  the  reeds  to  escape  the 
balls,  still  hurtling  viciously  over  the  open.  With  a  cry 
of  rage  and  despair,  Dick  flew  into  the  road,  and  there, 
not  a  hundred  yards  from  the  bridge,  he  saw  {he  well- 
known  figure  prone  on  the  red  earth  motionless  —  dead  ? 
Heedless  of  the  warning  cries  of  the  others,  Dick  tore  mad- 
ly to  the  body,  and  with  a  wild  cry  fell  upon  the  lifeless 
figure,  weltering  in  blood. 


CHAPTER  XXVII. 
"THE  ABSENT  ARE  ALWAYS  IN  THE  WRONG." 

UNDER  Vincent's  ardent  escort  Mrs.  Sprague  and  Merry 
traveled  from  Richmond  northward  in  something  like  haste 
and  with  as  much  comfort  as  was  possible  to  the  limited 
means  of  transportation  at  the  command  of  the  Confederate 
commissary.  Even  in  those  early  days  of  the  war,  the  rail- 
way system  of  the  South  was  worn  out  and  inadequate. 


318  THE   IRON   GAME. 

Such  a  luxury  as  a  parlor-car  was  unknown.  The  trains 
were  filled  with  military  personages  on  their  way  to  the 
field.  Mrs.  Sprague  and  Merry  were  the  only  women  in  the 
car  in  which  they  passed  from  Richmond  to  Fredericksburg. 
The  route  brought  them  through  a  land  covered  with  ham- 
lets of  camps,  drilling  squadrons,  and  the  panoply  of  war. 
While  the  elder  lady  gave  a  divided  mind  to  the  strange 
panorama,  Merry  watched  everything  eagerly,  amused  and 
interested  by  this  spectacle  of  preparation.  Such  soldiers  as 
she  could  see  distinctly  looked  like  farmers  in  holiday  home- 
spun ;  the  cavalry  like  nondescript  companies  of  backwoods 
lu.nters.  There  seemed  to  be  no  uniformity  in  infantry 
equipment  or  cavalry  accoutrements,  and  the  discipline 
struck  her  as  in  keeping  with  this  diversity  of  dress  and 
ornament.  The  men  could  be  seen  hurrying  in  boyish  glee 
toward  the  t/ain  as  it  drew  near  the  temporary  station, 
where  mail-bags  were  thrown  out  and  sometimes  supplies  of 
food  or  munitions  of  war.  Jocular  remarks  were  passed 
between  the  soldiery  at  the  windows  when  the  wistful  groups 
gathered  along  the  railway  line. 

"  I  say,  North  Cal'ina,  you'n's  goin'  straight  through  to 
Yankee  land  ? "  a  man  in  the  throng  shouts  to  some  one  on 
the  train. 

"  Straight." 

"  Send  us  a  lock  o'  Lincoln's  hair  to  poison  blind  adders, 
will  you  ? " 

"  No — promised  his  scalp  to  my  sweetheart  to  cover  the 
rocking-chair. " 

Then,  as  the  laugh  that  met  this  sally  died  away,  another 
humorist  piped  out : 

"  Tell  Uncle  Joe  Johnston  we're  just  rustin'  down  here 
for  a  fight  ;  ef  he  don't  hurry  up  we'll  go  ahead  ourselves. 
We're  drilled  down  so  fine  now  that  we  can't  think  'cept  by 
the  rule  o'  tactics." 

"Jest  you  never  mind,  boys.  Uncle  Joe'll  do  enough 
thinkin'  fur  ye  when  he  gets  ready  to  tackle  the  Yanks." 

"  Hurrah  for  Uncle  Joe  ! "  And  as  the  cheery  cry  swelled 
farther  and  farther,  the  train  drew  out  everybody  looking 


"THE   ABSENT   ARE   ALWAYS   IN   THE   WRONG."     319 

from  the  windows  as  the  patient  soldiery  straggled  back 
camp  ward. 

"  Your  soldiers  seem  very  gay,  Vincent.  One  would 
think  that  war,  the  dreadful  uncertainty  of  their  move- 
ments, absence  of  friends,  and  lack  of  good  food  would 
sidden  them,"  Mrs.  Sprague  said  wistfully  at  one  of  the 
stations  when  raillery  like  this  had  been  even  more  pointed 
and  boisterous. 

"  A  wise  commander  will  do  all  he  can  to  keep  his  men 
gay  i  if  they  were  not  jovial  they'd  go  mad.  Think  of  it  ! 
Day  after  day,  week  after  week,  who  knows  but  year  after 
year,  the  wearisome  monotony  of  camp  and  march !  Where 
the  men  are  educated,  or  at  least  readers,  they  make  better 
soldiers,  because  they  brood  less.  Brooding  saps  the  best 
fiber  of  the  army.  Your  Northern  men  ought  to  have  an 
advantage  there,  for  education  is  moi*e  general  with  you 
than  it  is  with  us.  It  is  not  bravery  that  makes  a  man 
eager  for  the  campaign,  it  is  unrest.  As  a  rule,  the  best 
soldiers  in  action  are  those  who  have  a  mortal  dread  of 
battle." 

"  That  surprises  me." 

"  It  is  true.  I  always  distrust  men  that  clamor  to  be  led 
on  ;  they  are  the  first  to  break  when  the  brush  comes.  Jack 
will  tell  you  that,  for  we  are  agreed  on  it." 

"  Jack  himself  was  eager  for  battle,"  Mrs.  Sprague  said, 
sighing. 

"  No,  Jack  was  eager  for  the  field.  When  the  battle 
comes  he  meets  it  coolly,  but  he  has  no  hunger  for  it,  nor 
have  I.  General  Johnston  is  as  brave  a  man  as  ever  headed 
an  army,  yet  he  has  often  told  us  that  his  blood  freezes  when 
the  guns  open.  I'm  sure  no  one  would  ever  suspect  it,  for 
he  is  as  calm  and  confident  as  if  he  were  in  a  quadrille  when 
he  rides  to  the  field." 

"  We  in  the  North  have  heard  more  of  Beauregard  than 
Johnston,  yet  I  never  hear  you  mention  him.  Wasn't  it  he 
who  commanded  at  Bull  Run  ? " 

"  Yes  and  no.  General  Beauregard  is  a  superb  soldier. 
He  is,  it  has  been  agreed  among  us,  better  for  a  desperate 
21 


320  THE  IRON   G^ME. 

charge,  or  some  sudden  inspiration  in  an  emergency,  than 
the'  complicated  strategy  that  half  wins  a  battle  before  it  is 
begun.  For  example,  at  Manassas  he  would  have  been  de- 
feated, our  whole  army  captured,  if  fortune  had  not  exposed 
General  McDowell's  plans  before  they  were  completed.  As 
it  was,  we  should  have  been  driven  from  the  field  if  General 
Johnston  had  not  come  up  in  time  and  rearranged  the  Con- 
federate lines." 

"  Yes,  Jack  has  described  that.  Battles,  after  all,  are  de- 
cided by  luck." 

"  And  genius." 

"  Luck  won  Waterloo. " 

"  Partly,  but  genius,  too,  for  Wellington  and  BKicher 
practiced  one  of  Napoleon's  most  perfect  maxims,  and  won 
because  he  despised  them  both  so  much  that  he  didn't 
dream  them  capable  of  even  imitating  him.  Nor,  left  to 
themselves,  would  they  have  been  equal  to  it.  But  rene- 
gade Frenchmen,  taught  under  Napoleon's  eye,  prompted 
them." 

"  General  Johnston  was  very  considerate  to  us  when  we 
came  down.  I  wish  you  would  make  him  know  how  grate- 
ful we  are." 

"  Oh,  he  couldn't  be  anything  else  ;  he  is  the  ideal  of  a 
chivalrous  knight." 

"  Yes,  I  believe  you  claim  chivalry  as  your  strong  point 
in  the  South,  and  accuse  us  of  being  a  race  of  sordid  money- 
getters." 

"  I  don't,  for  I  know  better,  but  our  people  do.  They  will 
learn  better  in  time.  Men  who  fought  as  your  army  fought 
at  Manassas  must  be  more  than  mere  sordid  hucksters. " 

"  And  yet  it  is  curious,"  Mrs.  Sprague  continued,  musing- 
ly, "  it  is  we  who  are  warring  for  an  idea  and  you  are  war- 
ring for  property." 

"  How  do  you  mean  ? "  Vincent  said,  quickly. 

"  You  are  fighting  to  continue  slavery,  to  extend  it  ;  we 
to  abolish  it  or  limit  it.  But  even  I  can  see  that  slavery  is 
doomed.  No  Northern  party  would  ever  venture  to  give  it 
toleration  after  this." 


"THE   ABSENT   AKE   ALWAYS   IN   THE   WRONG."     321 

"  But  if  Ave  succeed,  it  will  exist  in  our  union  at  least." 

"  Ah,  Vincent,  can't  you  see  that  such  a  people  as  ours 
may  be  checked,  beaten  even,  but  they  will  never  give 
up  the  Union  ?  Why,  much  as  I  love  Jack,  I  would  never 
let  him  leave  the  colors  while  there  was  an  army  in  the 
field.  Don't  you  know  every  Northern  mother  has  the 
same  feeling  ? " 

"And  every  Southern  mother,  too.'' 

"  Yes,  I  believe  that,  but  there's  this  difference  :  Your 
Southern  mothers  are  counting  on  what  doesn't  exist— a 
higher  physical  courage — a  prowess  in  battle,  I  may  call 
it,  that  you  must  know  the  Southern  soldier  has  not,  as  dis- 
tinguished from  the  Northern.  As  time  goes  on  and  the 
war  does  not  end  ;  as  our  armies  become  disciplined,  the 
confidence  that  supports  your  side  will  die,  and  then  the 
struggle,  though  it  may  be  prolonged,  will  end  in  our 
triumph." 

"  I  don't  think  it.  I  can't  think  it.  But  don't  let  us  talk 
about  it.  We,  at  least,  are  as  much  friends  as  though  Jack 
and  I  were  under  one  flag,  and  if  it  depends  on  me  it  shall 
be  always  so." 

"If  it  depends  on  us,  it  shall  never  be  otherwise."  She 
gave  the  young  man  a  kind,  scrutinizing  glance,  which 
made  his  heart  beat  joyously  and  his  handsome  cheeks 
mount  color.  At  Fairfax  Court-House  they  said  farewell, 
the  ladies  continuing  the  journey  in  an  ambulance  under 
Federal  guard. 

They  passed  over  the  long  bridge  three  days  after  the 
famous  night  at  Rosedale,  of  whose  exciting  sequel  they 
were  profoundly  ignorant.  In  her  husband's  time  Mrs. 
Sprague  had  lived  in  hotels  in  the  capital,  as  the  sessions 
were  short ;  she  had  never  remained  in  the  city  when  the 
warm  weather  set  in,  no  matter  how  long  the  term  lasted. 
But  on  her  arrival  at  the  old  hotel  now,  she  was  a  good  deal 
disturbed  to  learn  that  she  could  not  be  accommodated  in 
her  former  quarters.  The  military  crowded  not  only  this  but 
every  hotel  in  the  city,  and  it  was  only  after  long  search 
that  a  habitable  apartment  was  found  in  Georgetown.  On 


322  THE   IROX   GAME. 

the  whole,  the  necessity  that  drove  her  thither  was  not  an 
unmitigated  adversity,  for  Georgetown  then  was  far  more 
desirable  for  residence  than  Washington.  Nothing  could 
be  more  depressing  than  the  city  at  that  epoch.  Every  visi- 
ble object  in  the  vast  circumference  of  its  spreading  limits 
was  then  naked — unkempt.  Even  the  trees,  that  ranged 
themselves  irregularly  in  the  straggling  squares  and  wide 
street  areas,  stretched  out  a  draggled  and  piebald  plumage, 
as  if  uncertain  whether  beauty  or  ugliness  were  their  func- 
tion in  the  ensemble, 

The  photographic  realism  of  the  later  newspaper  corre- 
spondent had  not  come  into  play  in  these  earlier  years  of  the 
war,  and,  as  a  consequence,  the  thousands  who  poured  down 
to  the  Army  of  the  Potomac  beheld  the  city  with  something 
of  the  incredulous  scorn  with  which  the  effeminate  Byzan- 
tines regarded  the  capital  of  the  Goths,  when  the  corrupt  de- 
scendant of  Constantino  made  the  savage  Dacians  his  allies, 
rather  than  fight  them.  Patriotism,  however,  not  pride, 
marked  the  common  mold  of  the  men  of  the  civil  war.  It 
may  have  been  that  many  an  honest  plowman,  marching 
through  the  muddy  quagmires  of  Pennsylvania  Avenue, 
bethought  himself  that  such  a  capital  was  hardly  worth 
while  marching  so  far  to  protect— more  emphatically  so 
when  the  enemy  was  really  to  be  found  on  lines  far  north 
of  it !  Sentiment  is  the  heart  and  soul  of  war ;  if  it  were 
not,  there  would  be  no  war,  for  war  never  gained  as  much 
as  it  loses  ;  never  settled  as  much  as  it  unsettles  ;  never 
left  victor  or  vanquished  better  when  the  last  gun  was 
fired !  In  old  times  the  capture  of  a  nation's  capital  meant 
the  end  of  the  war,  but  we  have  seen  capitals  captured  and 
the  war  not  modified  a  bit  by  it.  Washington  was  seized 
and  burned  by  the  British  in  1814,  and  the  war  went  on  ; 
Paris  was  held  by  the  Germans  for  half  a  year,  and  the  war 
went  on. 

Our  civil  war  would  have  been  three  campaigns  shorter 
— Burnside's,  Hooker's,  and  the  stupid  massacre  of  Pope — 
to  say  nothing  of  the  saving  of  untold  treasure,  had  the 
political  authorities  abandoned  a  capital  which  must  be  de- 


"THE  ABSENT  ARE  ALWAYS  IN   THE   WRONG."     323 

fended  for  a  secure  seat  like  New  York  or  Philadelphia.  The 
sagacious  Lincoln,  whose  action  in  army  matters  was  para- 
lyzed by  cliques,  in  the  end  saw  through  sham  with  an  in- 
spired clarity  of  vision,  and  proposed  the  measure,  but  the 
backwoods  Mazarin,  Seward,  prepared  such  voluminous 
"  considerations  "  in  opposition  that  the  good-natured  Presi- 
dent withdrew  his  suggestion,  and,  as  a  consequence,  the  dis- 
mal Ilium  on  the  Potomac  became  the  bone  of  a  four  years' 
contention,  whose  vicissitudes  exceed  the  incidents  of  the 
Iliad.  Great  armies,  created  by  an  inspired  commander, 
were  wasted  upon  the  defense  of  a  capital  that  no  one  would 
have  lamented  had  it  been  again  burned,  and  of  which  to- 
day there  is  scarcely  a  remnant,  save  in  the  public  build- 
ings and  the  topographical  charts.  A  new  race  entered 
the  sleepy  city.  The  astute,  far-seeing  Yankee  divined  the 
possibilities  of  the  future,  where  the  indolent,  sentimental 
Southerner  had  never  taken  thought  of  a  nation's  growth 
and  a  people's  pride!  The  thrifty  and  shifty  patriots  sent 
from  the  North  at  once  took  a  stake  in  the  city,  and  thence- 
forward there  was  growth,  if  not  grace,  in  the  capital. 

Lincoln's  Washington  was  to  the  capital  of  to-day  what 
the  Rome  of  Numa  was  to  the  imperial  city  of  Augustus. 
Never,  in  its  best  days,  more  imposing  than  a  wild  Western 
metropolis  of  to-day,  the  sudden  inrush  of  armies  and  the 
wherewithal  to  supply  and  house  them,  soon  gave  the  vast 
spaces  laid  out  for  the  capital  the  uncouthness  and  incom- 
pleteness of  an  exaggerated  mining  town  or  series  of  towns. 
Contrasted  even  with  its  rival  on  the  James,  Washington 
was  raw,  chaotic,  squalid. 

Long  tenure  of  estates  and  little  change  in  the  people  had 
given  Richmond  the  venerableness  we  associate  with  age. 
Many  of  her  picturesque  seven  hills  were  transformed  into 
blooming  fields  or  umbrageous  groves,  under  which  vast 
villa-like  edifices  clustered  in  Grecian  repose.  Save  in  the 
bustling  main  streets  none  of  the  edifices  were  new  or  raw, 
or  wholly  unlovely  in  design  or  fabric.  In  Washington 
nothing  of  this  could  be  seen.  Staring  brick  walls,  build- 
ings of  unequal  height  and  fatiguingly  ugly  designs,  uprose 


32i  THE   IRON   GAME. 

here  and  there  in  morasses  of  mud  that  were  meant  for 
streets.  Disproportionate  outline,  sharp  conjunctures  of 
affluence  and  squalor,  accented  the  disheartening  hideous- 
ness  of  the  scene. 

But  upon  th  is  uncouth  stage  a  great  drama  was  going  on ; 
great  figures  were  in  action ;  momentous  events  were  hourly 
taking  form  and  consequence ;  men  and  women  at  their  best 
and  worst  were  working  out  the  awful  ends  of  Fate.  In 
the  large  mansion  yonder,  the  wisest,  greatest,  simplest  of 
mankind — by  times  Diogenes  and  Cromwell,  Lafayette  and 
Eobespierre — was,  in  jest  and  joke,  mirth  and  sadness, 
working  out  his  own  and  a  people's  sublime  destiny.  It 
was  to  this  curiously  unequal  personage  that  Mrs.  Sprague, 
after  fruitless  pleading  with  her  husband's  friends,  came 
finally  to  secure  action  on  behalf  of  her  son.  There  was 
little  of  the  ceremonial  needed  to  gain  access  to  the  Chief 
Magistrate  which  is  now  the  fashion. 

She  found  a  care-worn  man,  deeply  harassed,  standing  in 
the  low-ceiled  room,  in  which  the  Cabinet  had  met  a  few 
moments  before.  A  sweet,  wan  smile — the  instinctive,  in- 
born sensitiveness  of  a  noble  nature— nickered  over  the  rug- 
ged lines  of  the  face  as  the  usher,  retiring,  said: 

"  Mr.  President,  this  is  Mrs.  Sprague,  whom  you  ordered 
to  be  admitted." 

"  I  am  both  glad  and  sorry  to  meet  you,  madam.  I  knew 
your  husband,  the  Senator,  in  other  and  happier  times.  I 
wish  that  it  were  in  my  power  to  do  for  him  or  his  what  he 
was  always  doing  for  the  unhappy  or  distressed." 

"  Ah !  how  kind  you  are !     How — " 

She  was  going  to  say  different  from  what  she  expected, 
but  bethought  herself  of  the  ungraciousness  of  this  form, 
since  at  that  time  Mr.  Lincoln  was  the  object  of  almost  uni- 
versal misreport  and  caricature. 

"  How  can  I  say  what  a  mother  should  say  ? " 

While  she  spoke  he  began  pacing  the  apartment,  each 
time,  as  he  came  to  the  double  window  near  which  she  sat, 
peering  out  with  a  yearning,  far-away  look  toward  the  river 
and  the  red  lines  of  the  hills  beyond  it.  Then  turning  back, 


"THE   ABSENT   ARE   ALWAYS  IN   THE  WRONG."      325 

he  strode  the  length  of  the  long  baize-covered  table,  sometimes 
absently  picking  up  a  document,  until,  facing  her  again  as  she 
narrated  the  story  of  Jack's  misfortunes,  he  would  fling  it 
hastily  on  the  scattered  heaps  and  fix  his  mild  eye  upon  her. 

"  I  know  all  this  already,  dear  madam.  It  has  come  to 
me  from  the  boy's  friends,  and" — he  hesitated  a  second — 
"and  from  his — or  from  those  who  are  not  his  friends." 

"  Not  his  friends  ? "  the  mother  cried,  half  rising.  "  Why, 
Mr.  President,  Jack  hasn't  an  enemy  in  the  world!  " 

"  You  came  through  from  Richmond  last  week  ?  Have 
you  heard  nothing  f  i'om  your  son  since  you  saw  him  ? " 

"  Nothing.     Oh,  is  there  anything  about  him  ? " 

"You  have  not  even  read  the  newspapers,  I  see." 

"  No,  no ;  I  have  been  so  uncertain,  so  agitated,  so  con- 
stantly in  attendance  upon  our  members,  that  I  have  had  no 
time  to  read  or  even  talk.  But,  pray  tell  me !  Your  manner 
indicates  that  something  has  happened.  O  Mr.  President, 
think  of  my  anxiety !  My  only  son ! " 

"  Ah,  Mrs.  Sprague !  It  is  I  that  should  be  pitied  here. 
You  came  to  me  for  comfort.  You  came  in  reliance  on  my 
power  to  restore  your  son,  and  I — I  have  the  burden  of  tell- 
ing you  very  grievous  news.  No,  no,  your  son  is  not  dead, 
have  no  fear  of  that,  if  in  the  end  it  prove  a  comfort.  Last 
night  your  townsman,  Elisha  Boone,  came  to  me  with  his 
heart-broken  daughter,  demanding  vengeance  for  his  son's 
death,  whom  your  boy  had  slain  the  very  night  you  left  him 
on  the  James.  He  shot  Captain  Boone  in  the  house  you  vis- 
ited, and  defeated  a  well-arranged  plan  to  capture  the  rebel 
chief,  Davis.  Not  only  this,  but  he  endangered  the  escape 
of  a  number  of  sorely-worn  prisoners  who  had  succeeded  in 
reaching  the  Rosedale  place  and  halted  only  to  make  Davis's 
capture  certain." 

"  My  son  shot  Wesley !  oh  no,  no ;  it  can  not  be ;  or,  if  he 
did,  it  was  because  his  own  life  was  in  peril.  Ah !  no,  no, 
Mr.  President,  do  not  believe  this.  I  know  my  son.  I  know 
the  misery  he  endured  in  Wesley's  company  ;  endured  like 
a  hero  ;  endured  like  a  Sprague.  He  must  have  been  in 
peril  of  his  life." 


326  THE   IRON   GAME. 

"  Dear  madam,  I  feel  for  you.  I  feel  with  you,  but  these 
facts  are  all  in  the  possession  of  the  Secretary  of  War.  Mr. 
Boone  will  no  doubt  give  you  all  the  details.  If  it  can  be 
made  to  seem  as  you  say,  have  no  fear  that  I  will  wink  at 
mere  revenge,  or  make  the  machinery  of  justice  an  instru- 
ment of  family  feuds.  Get  your  lawyer;  have  the  matter 
investigated,  and  rely  upon  me  for  every  proper  clemency 
and  aid  in  your  hard  lot." 

She  had  arisen  long  before,  and,  recognizing  this  as  a  dis- 
missal, she  bowed,  unable  to  speak,  and,  with  blinded  eyes, 
staggered  toward  the  two  steps  leading  upward  from  the 
room.  She  would  have  fallen  had  the  ready  arm  of  the 
President  not  been  near  to  support  her.  In  the  anteroom 
he  said,  huskily : 

"  Captain,  send  an  orderly  to  accompany  this  lady  to  her 
carriage. " 

Merry  was  in  the  carriage.  One  glance  at  Mrs.  Sprague's 
face  told  that  dire  news  had  been  heard.  She  did  not  ask  a 
question,  but,  embracing  and  supporting  the  sobbing  mother, 
awaited  patiently  for  the  dreaded  revelation.  When  at 
length  the  miserable  story  came  in  gaspings  and  sobs,  the 
spinster  exhibited  an  unexpected  firmness. 

"  I  don't  believe  a  word  of  it.  If  Jack  shot  Wesley,  it 
was  because  he  was  in  some  sort  of  treacherous  business. 
You  may  depend  upon  it.  that,  when  we  get  the  true  story, 
Jack's  part  will  prove  him  in  the  right.  I  am  going  this 
instant  to  Boone  to  learn  his  source  of  information.  He  can 
have  nothing  but  rumors." 

"  I  will  go.  It  is  better  for  me  to  see  Mr.  Boone.  He 
will  not  venture  to  misrepresent  to  me." 

At  Willard's,  where  Boone  was  stopping,  the  ladies 
were  obliged  to  wait  a  long  time,  and,  in  the  end,  it  was 
Kate  who  appeared  before  them  in  deep  black,  with  a  half- 
yearning,  half-defiant  expression  in  the  sadly  worn  face. 
They  would  never  have  recognized  her,  and,  as  it  was, 
Merry  started  with  a  slight  scream  as  the  dark  figure  stopped 
before  them. 

"  Papa  begs  to  be  excused.    He  supposes  that  you  want 


"THE  ABSENT   ARE  ALWAYS  IN   THE   WRONG."     327 

to  hear  the  particulars  of  the — the  affair  at  Rosedale,  and 
bids  me  tell  you." 

"  O  Kate,  Kate,  it  is  not  true !  it  can  not  be  true.  Oh, 
you  who  knew  Jack  so  well,  you  know  that  he  never  could 
have — have — ' 

Kate  had  seized  a  chair  and  drawn  it  before  the  two  who 
sat  on  one  of  the  long  sofas  that  filled  without  adorning  the 
vast  hotel  parlor,  dim  even  at  noonday  in  its  semi-subterra- 
nean light. 

"Yes,  Mrs.  Sprague,  your  son  shot  Wesley  deliberately; 
shot  him  as  deliberately  as  if  I  should  draw  a  pistol  and  take 
your  life  now  and  here." 

"  And— and  killed  him  ? " 

"  He  never  spoke  again.  He — he — ah !  I  can  not,  I  can 
not !  We  brought  him  here.  His  body  is  in  the  cemetery, 
waiting  the  military  formalities." 

"  But  tell  us  how  it  happened,  Kate,"  Merry  sobbed,  en- 
treatingly.  "  We  know  nothing  but  what  you  have  told  us. 
Tell  us  all.  It  is  so  startling,  so  awful,  that  we  can  not 
comprehend  such  a  thing  happening  where  we  left  every- 
body in  the  most  friendly  spirit. " 

Kate,  struggling  with  her  tears,  told  the  story  so  far  as 
she  knew  it,  but  of  course  she  knew  little  beyond  the  mere 
fact  that  Wesley  had  come  to  his  death  in  Mrs.  Atterbury's 
room;  that  Jack  stood  over  him  with  the  smoking  pistol, 
and  owned  that  he  had  fired  in  the  darkness.  She  told  the 
tale  as  gently  as  might  be,  her  own  heart  secretly  pleading 
for  everything  of  extenuation  that  might  lessen  Jack's  guilt, 
but  she  had  insensibly  taken  the  darker  view  her  father  had 
instantly  adopted,  that  Jack's  enmity  had  led  him  to  seize  the 
chance  to  rid  himself  of  a  rival  and  enemy  under  cover  of 
defending  the  Atterburys.  She  did  not  hint  this  to  the 
mother,  but  Merry,  knowing  Boone,  at  once  saw  what  the 
President's  words  meant.  Boone  had  charged  Jack  with 
deliberate  murder.  Dreading  the  realization  of  this  by  Mrs. 
Sprague  at  this  time,  Merry  made  a  sign  to  Kate,  who,  com- 
prehending at  once,  arose  and  begged  to  go  back  to  her  fa- 
ther, who  was  in  need  of  her. 


328  THE   IRON    GAME. 

"Oh,  if  Olympia  were  here!  she  has  so  much  self-con- 
trol !  she  would  advise  so  well  what  should  be  done ! "  the 
mother  moaned,  ar>  she  passed  down  through  the  long,  bar- 
rack-like parlor. 

"  But,  dear  Mrs.  Sprague,  Olympia  is  just  where  her  good 
sense  is  most  needed.  She  is  near  Jack.  He  needs  comfort 
and  counsel.  You  can  have  your  lawyer,  and  you  shall  see 
the  case  isn't  so  bad.  as  we  have  heard.  You  must  remem- 
ber that  the  Boones  are  not  likely  to  take  an  impartial  view. 
It  is  only  human  nature  that  they  should  think  the  worst  of 
the— the — death  of  son  and  brother.  Wait  till  we  hear 
Jack's  story,  and  you  will  see  that  it  puts  a  different  face 
on  the  matter." 

"  But  it's  Jack's  disgrace  and  death  they  want.  That  was 
what  the  President  meant.  I  didn't  understand  it  then ;  I  do 
understand  it  now.  They  shall  not  murder  him !  I  shall  com- 
mand him  to  remain  in  Richmond.  I  shall  command  him 
to  join  Vincent.  The  North  is  unworthy  of  such  men  as 
my  son.  He  is  too  pure,  too  innocent,  too  high-minded  to 
be  understood  by  the  coarse  natures  that  have  come  to  power 
in  the  country.  I  shall  not  let  this  odious  Boone  destroy 
him  as  he  ruined  your  brother." 

"O  Mrs.  Sprague,  think  what  you  are  saying!  Think 
how  fatal  such  words  would  be,  if  Jack  were  brought  to 
trial !  You  see  every  day  in  the  press  how  all  are  suspected 
of  treason  who  were  Democrats  in  the  old  days.  I  know 
very  well  that  you  do  not  mean  this.  Much  as  I  love  Jack, 
I  would  rather  see  him  in  his  grave  with  the  Union  flag 
over  him  than  in  the  rebel  lines,  a  soldier  of  that  bad  cause. 
As  to  my  poor  brother,  Boone  was  only  an  accident  in  his 
ruin.  If  it  had  not  been  Boone,  it  would  have  been  some 
one  else.  Put  the  whole  matter  in  the  hands  of  Simon  Bro- 
die.  He  is  almost  a  Sprague.  He  will  see  that  the  son  of 
his  old  patron  has  justice." 

Simon  Brodie,  of  Warchester,  was  the  chief  advocate  of 
the  three  counties.  He  had  studied  law  with  the  late  Sena- 
tor Sprague,  and,  at  his  death,  from  partner  succeeded  to  his 
lucrative  law  practice.  He  came  at  once  to  Washington  at 


"TUB   ABSENT   ARE   ALWAYS   IN   THE   WRONG."     329 

Mrs.  Sprague's  summons,  and  set  about  learning  the  status 
of  the  case.  The  affair  was  no  easy  matter  to  trace,  but,  after 
inconceivable  delays  and  persistent  misleading,  he  found 
that  Jack  was  in  the  military  archives  charged  with  deser- 
tion, murder,  and  treason :  desertion  in  quitting  his  company 
and  regiment  without  orders,  treason  in  consorting  with 
armed  rebels,  and  murder  in  joining  with  the  enemies  of 
the  country  to  take  the  life  of  his  commanding  officer. 
Meanwhile,  Mrs.  Sprague  and  Merry  had  returned  to  Acre- 
dale,  and  the  lawyer  sent  letters  to  Richmond  setting  forth 
the  case  to  Jack — letters  which,  by  some  mysterious  jug- 
glery, never  reached  their  address,  as  we  have  seen.  Noth- 
ing could  be  done  until  Jack  was  either  exchanged  or  until 
his  advocate  had  made  out  a  documentary  case  that  could 
be  presented  to  the  military  authorities.  As  he  surmised, 
every  one  in  authority  had  been  prejudiced  against  Jack. 
The  Congressman  from  Warchester  dared  not  work  against 
Boone,  who  was  potent  as  a  Cabinet  minister  in  the  councils 
of  the  Government.  One  of  Senator  Sprague's  old  fi'iends, 
still  in  the  Senate,  advised  Brodie  to  let  Jack  remain  at 
Richmond  till  the  peace  came,  "  for,"  said  he,  "  no  Democrat 
nor  any  one  identified  with  that  party  can  hope  for  imparr 
tial  justice  here." 

"  But  what  am  I  to  do  ?  I  can  get  no  assistance  here. 
Every  bureau  containing  documents  bearing  on  the  poor 
boy's  case  is  either  closed  to  me,  or  the  officials  so  hostile  that 
I  can  not  work  with  or  through  them." 

"  You  must  go  about  the  affair  as  if  it  were  a  State  mat- 
ter. You  must  go  to  McClellan.  He  is  a  young  man  of  the 
most  spotless  honor,  the  most  generous  sympathies.  He  is 
as  rigid  as  a  Prussian  in  discipline,  but  his  methods  are  en- 
lightened and  above  board.  He  is  the  only  man  in  authority 
that  has  any  real  conception  of  the  magnitude  of  the  strug- 
gle the  North  has  entered  upon.  He  is,  however,  miserably 
hampered.  The  new  rulers  have  come  down  to  Washing- 
ton very  much  in  the  spirit  of  the  Goths  when  they  capt- 
ured Rome.  Every  one  is  on  the  make.  The  contract  sys- 
tem is  something  beyond  the  wildest  excesses  I  ever  read  of 


330  THE   IRON   GAME. 

in  pillage  and  chicanery.  Shoes  by  the  million  have  been 
accepted  that  melt  as  soon  as  they  are  wet;  garments  are 
stacked  mountain-high  in  the  storehouses  that  blow  into 
rags  so  soon  as  the  air  goes  through  them.  Food,  moldy, 
filthy,  is  accumulated  on  the  wharves  of  Washington,  Balti- 
more, and  Alexandria  that  would  be  forbidden  as  infectious 
in  any  carefully  guarded  port  in  the  world.  Contracts  for 
vessels  have  been  signed  where  steamships  are  called  for,  and 
the  contractor  sends  canal-boats.  Lines  of  ships  are  paid  for 
to  run  to  ports  not  known  in  navigation ;  and  the  chief  men 
in  the  great  departments  share  the  money  with  the  rings — " 

"  But  why  don't  you  expose  it  ? " 

"  Expose  it  ?  A  word  in  the  Senate  against  these  villain- 
ies is  set  down  as  disloyalty.  All  that  a  rascal  needs  to  gain 
any  scope  he  pleases,  is  to  say  '  rebel  sympathizer,'  and  Fort 
Warren  or  Lafayette  is  held  up  as  a  menace." 

Among  the  confidential  aides  of  McClellan  Brodie  knew 
intimately  a  young  officer,  the  son  of  a  distinguished  lady, 
whose  writings  delighted  cultivated  people  fifty  years  ago. 
This  young  man,  Captain  Churchland,  had  often  been  a 
guest  at  the  Spragues,  and  to  him  Brodie  went  for  advice. 
Inheriting  a  great  deal  of  his  mother's  intellect,  with  a  droll 
sense  of  humor,  not  then  so  well  understood  as  the  lighter 
school  of  writers  have  since  made  it,  Churchland  was  the  de- 
light of  the  headquarters.  He  listened  to  the  melancholy 
story  of  Jack's  compromising  plight. 

"  It's  a  bad  fix — no  mistake,"  he  said,  gravely ;  "  but  I  sug- 
gest that  your  fiery  young  friend  come  home  and  shoot  the 
father,  marry  the  daughter,  and,  as  a  wife  can't  testify  against 
the  husband,  your  client  is  secure." 

"  Ah,  captain,  it's  not  a  matter  for  joking.  Think  of  his 
wretched  mother." 

"  That's  just  what  I  do  think  of — murder's  no  joke,  though 
it's  more  of  a  fine  art  than  it  was  when  De  Quincey  wrote. 
I'm  perfectly  serious.  1  would  shoot  the  scoundrel  Boone. 
Why,  do  you  know  the  man  has  cleared  a  million  dollars  on 
rotten  blankets  since  he  came  here  ?  McClellan  ordered  a 
report  made  out  showing  his  rascalities  a  few  weeks  ago. 


THE   WORLD   WENT   VERY   ILL   THEN.  331 

It  was  disapproved  at  the  War  Office,  and  the  condemned 
blankets  have  gone  to  Halleck's  army.  Doesn't  that  deserve 
shooting  ?  Napoleon  directed  all  the  army  contractors  to  be 
hanged.  I  say  shoot  them.  For  every  one  put  out  of  the 
way  a  thousand  soldiers'  lives  will  be  saved." 

"Well,  well,  let  Boone  go.  It's  Sprague  I'm  inter- 
ested in." 

"  So  am  I.  It  is  Sprague  that  Boone  seems  to  be  inter- 
ested in,  too,  for  he  has  filled  the  new  Secretary  with,  what 
he  himself  would  call,  righteous  wrath  against  the  poor  boy 
and  his  friends.  But  make  your  mind  easy.  The  exchange 
of  prisoners  will  soon  begin.  Sprague's  turn  will  come 
among  the  first,  and  then  I  will  keep  track  of  the  affair. 
Beyond  that  I  can  promise  nothing.  You  may  be  sure,  so 
far  as  purely  military  men  have  to  do  with  the  business, 
there  will  be  impartial  justice.  When  the  politicians  take 
hold,  I  can  give  no  assurance." 

And  with  this  cold  comfort  the  disheartened  lawyer  be- 
took himself  to  Acredale,  where  his  report,  guardedly  given, 
brought  no  very  strong  hope  to  the  anxious  mother. 


CHAPTER  XXVIII. 

THE  WORLD  WENT  VERY  ILL  THEN. 

ACREDALE  was  not  the  sleepy,  sylvan  scene  we  first  saw 
it,  when  Mrs.  Sprague  and  Merry  drove  through  the  wide 
main  street  from  the  station,  four  months  after  they  had 
quitted  it  in  search  of  their  soldier  boys.  The  stately  elms 
still  arched  the  highway  to  Warchester,  but  here  and  there 
rough  gaps  were  seen  in  the  trim  hedge-rows.  Staring  new 
edifices  jutted  through  these  breaks  upon  the  grassy  walks, 
and  building  material  lay  heaped  in  confusion  all  along 
the  graveled  walks.  Merry  railed  at  these  evidences  of 
commercial  invasion,  wondering  who  had  come  to  the  vil- 


332  THE   IROX   GAME. 

lage  to  transform  it  into  city  hideousness.  Mrs.  Sprague  did 
not  erive  much  heed  to  her  companion's  speculations.  Her 
mind  was  far  away  on  the  James,  wondering  where  her 
boy  was.  It  was  very  hard  to  settle  down  to  the  common- 
places of  home  life ;  but,  even  in  all  her  distraction,  Mrs. 
Sprague  saw  that  a  change  had  come  upon  the  people  as  well 
as  the  place.  With  the  war  and  its  desolating  sights  fresh 
in  her  memory,  she  saw,  wTith  sorrow  and  aversion,  that  social 
life  was  gayer  than  it  had  ever  been,  that  the  rush  for  wealth 
had  become  a  fever,  and  that  the  simple  ways  and  homely 
joys  of  the  past  were  now  remitted  to  the  very  elderly.  The 
story  of  Dick's  mad  pursuit  of  Jack  and  the  Caribees,  after 
the  disaster  at  Bull  Run,  was  soon  known  in  every  home  in 
the  county.  Friends  came  from  far  and  near  to  hear  the 
exciting  adventure;  and  the  younger  boys,  who  had  been  the 
lad's  classmates  in  the  academy,  at  once  made  up  a  company 
of  youngsters,  adorned  by  the  name  of  the  "  Perley  Rangers," 
to  be  in  readiness  for  the  hero's  command  when  he  should 
return. 

The  feud  between  the  adherents  of  the  houses  of  Sprague 
and  Boone  had  become  acrimoniously  embittered  by  the  point 
of  view  from  which  each  side  saw  the  conduct  of  Jack. 
Among  the  Boonc  feudatories  he  was  set  down  as  a  traitor, 
a  spy,  a  murderer.  The  first  malignant  rumors  that  reached 
the  village  after  the  battle  were  still  maintained  stoutly  by 
the  Boone  lictors.  Jack  had  ingloriously  shirked  his  part  in 
the  battle  with  the  Caribees ;  he  had  skulked  in  the  bushes 
until  the  issue  was  decided,  and  then  had  followed  the  sym- 
pathies of  his  secession  family ;  he  had  gone  to  the  Atter- 
burys,  well  known  for  their  hatred  to  the  North.  It  was  to 
prove  his  sincerity  in  the  Southern  cause  that  he  had  wormed 
himself  into  the  confidence  of  Wesley  Boone's  comrades,  and 
in  order  that  he  might  be  chief  agent  in  the  frustration  of 
the  plan  of  escape. 

He  had  won  high  regard  in  the  Confederacy  by  saving 
Davis  from  capture.  He  had,  with  his  own  hand,  shot  Wes- 
ley Boone  when  the  plan  of  capture  was  on  the  verge  of  suc- 
cess. Could  anything  be  clearer  than  his  odious. treason? 


THE   WORLD   WENT   VERY   ILL  THEN.  333 

Hadn't  he,  of  all  the  unfortunates  of  the  battle,  found  favor 
and  luxurious  quarters  in  Richmond  ?  Hadn't  he  cunningly 
cajoled  the  Boones  into  the  visit  to  the  rebel  household,  in 
order  to  wrest  the  secrets  of  the  Union  rescue  from  them  ? 
It  was  in  vain  that  the  Perleys  and  others  set  forth  the  real 
case.  "  Very  likely,  indeed,"  the  Boone  side  cried,  "  that 
rebels  like  the  Atterburys  would  receive  true  Unionists  into 
their  house,  and  treat  them  as  friends!  A  real  Unionist 
would  have  refused  hospitality  from  the  enemies  of  his 
country."  There  was  talk  among  the  more  zealous  patriots 
of  having  the  Sprague  family  expelled  from  Acredale.  Loyal 
zealots  looked  up  the  law  on  expatriation  and  attainder,  and 
complained  bitterly  that  no  applicable  provisions  were  found 
in  the  statutes.  Stirring  addresses  were  sent  to  the  member 
from  Warchester,  imploring  him  to  have  laws  enacted  that 
would  enable  the  patriots  to  deal  summarily  with  covert 
treason.  It  was  true  that  the  Spragues  had  contributed 
many  thousand  dollars  toward  the  equipment  of  the  Cari- 
bees,  had  endowed  twenty  beds  in  one  of  the  city  hospitals 
for  the  wounded— but  this  was  when  Jack  expected  high 
command  in  the  regiment.  Failing  in  that  ignoble  self- 
seeking,  he  had  gone  where  his  heart  was,  while  the  family, 
to  retain  their  property,  remained  among  the  loyal,  to  insult 
their  woe  and  gloat  over  their  misfortunes. 

At  a  great  "  war  meeting  "  in  the  town-hall,  over  which 
Boone  presided,  one  thrilling  orator  hinted  that  fire,  if  not 
the  law,  could  "  relieve  a  loyal  community  of  the  Copper- 
head's nest !  "  "  It  was  an  insult,  as  well  as  a  menace,  to  have 
the  patrician  palace  of  disloyalty  flaunting  its  grandeurs 
among  a  people  loyal  and  devoted,  whose  sons  and  brothers 
were  battling  for  the  Union.  Every  rebel  sympathizer  driven 
from  the  North  would  strengthen  the  Union  cause;  ashes 
and  salt  sowed  on  the  ground  their  insolent  homes  had  dese- 
crated, would  be  a  holy  reminder  to  the  loyal,  a  warning  to 
the  secret  foes  of  the  Union." 

There  were  loud  expressions  of  approval,  and  a  solemn 
''  Amen  "  to  this  intrepid  plan  of  campaign.  Lawyer  Brodie, 
who  was  present,  arose  under  a  thunder  of  discordant  notes 


334  THE   IRON   GAME. 

—"Copperhead!"  "Traitor!"  "Dough-face!"  "We  don't 
want  to  hear  from  rebel  sympathizers !  Out  with  him !  "  and 
Other  more  opprobrious  taunts.  Now,  Brodie  was  Boone's 
counsel,  and  had  been  identified  with  him  in  some  very  dif- 
ficult litigation.  It  would  not  do  to  have  him  discredited. 
The  chairman  rapped  loudly  for  order. 

"I  can  vouch,  my  friends,  for  Mr.  Brodie's  patriotism. 
He  is  a  Democrat,  it  is  true ;  but  he  loves  the  Union.  I  know 
that  to  be  a  fact.  You  can  do  the  Union  no  better  service 
than  listening  to  what  he  has  to  say." 

Brodie,  who  had  held  his  place,  calmly  smiled  as  Boone 
sat  down,  and,  surveying  the  audience  from  side  to  side, 
began : 

"  Free  speech  was  one  of  the  cries  that  aroused  the  North 
in  the  late  campaign.  I  believe  in  free  speech.  I  have  done 
my  share  toward  securing  it,  but  I  never  was  refused  ft  be- 
fore. I  look  among  the  men  here  and  see  among  you  neigh- 
bors whom  I  have  known  since  boyhood,  neighbors  who  have 
known  me  since  boyhood,  and  when  I  arise  here  to  take  a 
citizen's  part,  in  a  meeting  called  to  aid  and  comfort  the 
cause  of  the  Union,  I  am  permitted  to  speak  only  by  the 
personal  request  of  one  man.  If  that  is  your  idea  of  free 
speech,  if  that  is  your  notion  of  aiding  the  Union  cause,  and 
strengthening  the  hands  of  the  Administration,  I  don't  need 
to  be  in  the  confidence  of  the  rebel  authorities  to  tell  you 
that  they  could  ask  no  more  powerful  allies  than  you! 
[Sensation.] 

"  There  are  three  hundred  men  in  this  hall.  The  light  in 
good,  and  my  eyesight  is  not  impaired ;  but  I  can  not  see 
a  man  among  you  who  was  not  a  Democrat  a  year  or  two 
ago.  There  are  not  fifty  men  among  you  that  voted  for 
Abraham  Lincoln.  [Murmurs.]  Are  the  two  hundred  and 
fifty,  then,  traitors  ?  Are  they  rebel  sympathizers  ?  Are  they 
Copperheads  ?  One  thousand  men  marched  under  the  Cari- 
bee  flag ;  not  a  man  of  them  voted  for  Lincoln.  Are  they 
Copperheads  ?  This  township,  by  its  vote  at  the  last  election, 
was  five  to  one  Democratic.  Is  this  a  Copperhead  commu- 
nity ?  Nearly  a  half-million  dollars  have  been  subscribed 


THE   WORLD   WENT   VERY   ILL   THEN.  335 

for  bounties  and  war  measures;  the  tax-payers,  almost  to 
a  man,  are  Democrats.  Is  it  possible,  then,  that  the  Copper- 
heads are  supplying  the  money  to  carry  on  the  war  ?  You 
propose  to  burn  the  mansion  of  my  old  partner,  Senator 
Sprague !  Why  ?  Because  his  estate  has  given  more  to  the 
Union  cause  than  any  other  family  in  the  township  ?  " 

"  The  son  has  gone  over  to  the  rebels,"  a  voice  cried. 

"  Thank  you.  There— I'm  glad  you  have  given  me  the 
chance  to  crush  that  cowardly  calumny — the  invention  of 
some  envious  malefactor.  Jack  Sprague  has  gone  over  to 
the  rebels,  just  as  Anderson  and  his  men  went  over  at  Sum- 
ter;  just  as  fifteen  hundred  of  his  comrades  went  over  at 
Bull  Run;  just  as  some  of  our  sons  and  brothers  here  in 
Acredale  went  over;  just  as  my  friend,  Boone's  son,  went 
over— because  he  was  surrounded  and  wounded." 

"  Stop  a  moment,  if  you  please,  friend  Brodie ;  I  protest 
against  your  making  anything  in  common  between  my  son 
and  this  young  man.  The  matter  is  to  be  investigated,  and 
then  we  can  tell  better." 

Boone  spoke  in  great  excitement,  and  the  audience,  now 
feverishly  wrought  up,  urged  the  lawyer  to  say  his  say  out. 
He  continued  in  the  trained,  impassive  tones  of  the  advo- 
cate: 

"  Every  one  in  this  room  knows  the  two  young  men.  It 
would  be  waste  of  time  for  me  -to  strive  to  make  anything 
in  common  between  John  Sprague  and  Wesley  Boone. 
Here,  where  they  both  grew  up,  that  is  quite  unnecessary." 

"  I— I— referred  to  their  conduct  as  soldiers,"  Boone  cried, 
hoarsely.  "  My  son  lost  his  life  in  the  service  of  his  coun- 
try, r  can't  have  his  name  coupled  with  a — murderer's — 
with  a  traitor's." 

"Ah,  my  friend,  when  hate  draws  your  portrait  it  is 
bound  to  be  black.  When  prejudice  holds  the  pen,  your 
virtues  stand  in  the  shade  of  vice.  I  will  tell  John  Sprague's 
story  from  the  day  he  quit  Acredale  to  the  unhappy  hour  his 
comrade  was  killed  in  the  dark,  in  the  sleeping-room  of  the 
mother  and  daughter  who  had  nursed  him  from  the  very 
jaws  of  death.  He  was  in  that  house  by  his  father's  urgent 
22 


336  THE   IROX    GAME. 

request,  though  it  would  have  needed  none  to  open  its  doors 
to  any  one  in  want  of  succor.  Nor,"  he  added,  significantly, 
"  can  it  be  told  who  killed  Wesley  Boone  until  all  the  shots 
fired  in  Mrs.  Atterbury's  chamber  are  accounted  for." 

Then  he  narrated  rapidly,  but  tellingly,  the  substance  of 
what  has  been  already  set  down  in  this  history — the  facts 
taken  from  Jack's  letters  and  attested  by  the  corroboration 
of  Barney,  Dick,  and  the  company's  officers.  There  was  a 
visible  revulsion  in  the  larger  part  of  the  audience  as  the  tale 
went  on ;  and  when  the  lawyer  wound  up  with  the  story  of 
Mrs.  Sprague's  baffled  efforts  in  Washington  to  have  her  boy 
brought  North,  there  was  an  outburst  of  applause  and  a  faint 
cheer  from  the  younger  men  for  "  glorious  old  Jack." 

The  factions  shifted  a  good  deal  after  this  official  render- 
ing of  the  affair.  There  was  no  longer  any  talk  of  burning 
the  Sprague  property,  and  opinion  was  about  evenly  divided 
as  to  Jack's  conduct.  December  had  come,  and  the  township 
was  busy  packing  boxes  to  send  to  the  army.  No  news 
had  come  North  from  Richmond.  Active  movements  were 
looked  for  every  day,  and  in  the  momentous  expectation 
such  lesser  incidents  as  exchange  were  forgotten  or  ignored. 
The  daily  journals  were  filled  with  details  of  contemplated 
expeditions,  and  one  morning  Mrs.  Sprague  read  with  beat- 
ing heart  this  paragraph  in  the  Herald : 

''  A  score  or  more  of  the  men  who  escaped  from  the  Rich- 
mond prison  a  few  weeks  ago,  arrived  at  Washington  to-day 
from  Fort  Monroe.  The  party  endured  untold  privations  in 
the  swamps  between  Williamsburg  and  our  line  on  the  War- 
wick, but  all  came  in  safely,  except  two  men  who  died  from 
the  results  of  their  wounds.  The  expedition  was  planned 
and  carried  out  by  an  agent  of  General  Butler,  who  has  been 
in  Virginia  since  the  unfortunate  attempt  to  rescue  Captain 
Boone  of  the  '  Caribee '  regiment.  At  the  moment  the 
party  reached  the  Union  outpost,  one  of  the  most  daring  of 
the  Union  men,  Sergeant  Jacques  of  the  Caribees,  was,  it  is 
thought,  mortally  wounded." 

Merry,  too,  had  seen  the  story,  and  came  over  to  show  it 
to  Mi-s.  Sprague. 


THE    WORLD   WENT    VERY   ILL   TliEX.  337 

"I  have  seen  it,  I  have  seen  it.  Who  of  the  Caribees 
can  these  be  ?  Who  is  Jacques  ?  I  never  heard  that  name 
here." 

"  Ah  !  he  must  be  one  of  the  town  recruits.  It's  a  French 
name." 

"  Yes,  it  is  part  of  a  rather  famous  French  name,"  Mrs. 
Sprague  replied,  half  smiling  at  Merry's  innocence.  "  Some- 
thing must  be  done  to  get  into  communication  with  these 
escaped  men.  Some  of  them  must  have  seen  Jack.  If  there 
are  Caribees  among  them,  you  may  be  sure  they  have  mes- 
sages from  our  boys.  I  think  I  shall  set  out  for  Washing- 
ton, or  ask  Mr.  Brodie  to  go." 

''  That's  better.  Mr.  Brodie  can  get  at  the  men  and  you 
couldn't.  I  shall  be  in  a  fever  until  we  have  heard  from 
them." 

Brodie  agreed  with  the  ladies  when,  later,  they  discussed 
the  matter  with  him,  and  that  evening  he  set  out  for  Wash- 
ington. Mrs.  Sprague  at  the  tea-table  with  Merry,  who 
made  it  a  point  to  give  the  lonely  mother  as  much  of  her 
time  as  she  could  spare,  was  still  pondering  the  paragraph 
when  the  sound  of  carriage-wheels  came  in  through  the 
closed  curtains.  Then  the  front  door  opened  without  knock- 
ing, and  there  was  a  rustle  in  the  hallway,  and  then,  with  a 
simultaneous  scream,  three  agitated  females,  to  wit,  Mrs. 
Sprague,  Merry,  and  Olympia,  in  a  confused  mass. 

"  0  my  child !  my  child !  " 

"  Mamma ! " 

"  Dearest,  dearest  Olympia,"  Merry  splutters,  wildly  em- 
bracing both. 

"  Oh,  how  delightful  to  be  here,  to  see  you,  mamma  as 
peaceful  and  serene  as  in  the  old  days!  I  thought  I  should 
never  get  home.  I  left  Richmond  three  weeks  ago.  I  was 
held  at  Fredericksburg  for  ten  days.  Then  I  had  to  turn 
back  when  we  got  to  Manassas,  through  some  red  tape  lack- 
ing there.  But  here  I  am.  Here  I  am  at  home — ugh !— I 
shall  never  quit  it  again  —never." 

"  But,  my  child.     Tell  us— Jack ! " 

"  Jack  ?    Haven't  you  heard  from  him  ?     He  escaped 


338  THE   IRON   GAME. 

three  weeks  ago.  It  was  lie  who  got  the  men  out  of  the 
prison.  Dick  was  with  him.  Surely  you  have  heard  of 
that?"  and  Olympia  sank  into  the  nearest  chair,  all  the 
gayety  gone  from  her  face,  her  eyes  questioning  the  two 
wretched  women.  Neither  could  for  the  moment  control 
her  agitation;  neither  was  capable  of  thinking.  All  that 
was  in  their  minds  was  this  dire  specter  of  a  month's 
silence.  Alive,  Jack  or  Dick  would  have  found  means  to 
relieve  their  anxiety. 

"  Surely  you  heard  that  a  party  had  escaped  from  Libby 
and  made  their  way  to  Fort  Monroe  ? "  Olympia  cried,  des- 
perately. 

"  Tort  Monroe  ? "  Mrs.  Sprague  echoed  mechanically. 
"  Yes,  ah,  yes.  Merry,  where's  the  paper  ?  " 

Olympia  devoured  the  meager  scrap  and  then  dropped 
the  journal  on  her  knees.  Her  mind  was  in  a  whirl.  In 
Richmond  the  escape  had  been  announced,  then  the  news 
that  the  party  had  been  surrounded  in  the  swamp,  then  day 
by  day  details  of  the  taking  of  straggling  negroes  and  one 
or  two  soldiers,  but  no  name  that  even  resembled  Jack's. 
The  Atterburys,  after  the  first  painful  sensation,  had  given 
their  approval  of  Jack's  going,  and  used  all  means  in  their 
power  to  get  such  facts  as  would  comfort  Olympia.  They  as- 
sured her  that  Jack  had  reached  the  Union  lines,  and  then 
she  had  set  out  northward,  expecting  to  find  him  at  home 
or  in  communication  with  his  family.  No  word  from  Dick  ? 
No  word  from  Jack  ?  They  were  dead,  and  she — she  had 
urged  them  to  the  mad  adventure  I  She  had  given  Jack  no 
peace,  had  fired  Dick  to  the  fatal  enterprise.  She  dared  not 
look  in  the  tearless  eyes  of  her  mother.  She  dared  not  face 
the  ghastly  questioning  in  Merry's  meek  eye.  Brodie  had 
gone  down  to  see  the  escaped  men.  Perhaps  he  would  dis- 
cover something.  This  was  the  small  comfort  left  the 
three  when,  near  midnight,  they  ended  the  woful  confer- 
enc3. 

The  next  day  Olympia  was  visited  by  a  representative  of 
the  Crossbow,  the  chief  journal  of  Warchester,  and  urged  to 
write  a  narrative  of  her  adventures  in  the  rebel  capital. 


A   WOMAN'S   REASON.  339 

UntO  her  friends  made  her  see  how  much  effect  it  would 
have  in  clearing  Jack's  reputation  she  shrank  from  the  pub- 
licity, but  with  that  end  in  view — Jack's  honor — she  wrote, 
and  wrote  with  strength  and  clearness,  the  moving  incidents 
of  her  brother's  capture,  captivity,  and  escape— or  his  bold 
effort  to  escape.  This  she  told  so  simply,  so  directly,  so  viv- 
idly, that  the  truth  of  it  at  once  struck  the  most  prejudiced 
reader,  who  had  no  cause  to  continue  in  his  prepossession. 
After  the  publication  in  the  Warchester  paper  scores  who 
had  sided  with  the  Boone  faction  either  called  or  wrote  to 
confess  their  error.  Even  the  Acredale  Monitor,  a  weekly 
sheet  notoriously  in  the  interest  of  Boone,  felt  constrained  to 
copy  parts  of  the  account  and  publish  with  it  a  shambling 
retraction  of  previous  criticism,  based  on  imperfect  knowl- 
edge, that  it  had  printed  concerning  Sergeant  Sprague. 
"  Death,"  it  declared,  "  has  obliterated  all  feeling  that  ex- 
isted against  our  young  townsman,  whose  conduct,  though 
open  to  grievous  doubt  in  the  early  part  of  his  military  ca- 
reer, has  been  amply  atoned  for  in  the  intrepid  enterprise  in 
which  he  seems  to  have  lost  his  life." 


CHAPTER  XXIX. 
A  WOMAN'S  REASON. 

THE  still,  small  voice  that  makes  itself  a  force  in  the 
heart,  which  the  poets  call  our  mentor  and  the  moralists 
conscience,  had  been  painfully  garrulous  in  Kate  Boone's 
breast  since  the  angry  parting  with  Jack  at  Rosedale.  At 
first,  in  the  wild  grief  of  Wesley's  death,  she  had  hugged 
hatred  of  Jack  to  her  heart  as  a  sublime  revenge  for  the 
murder.  But  with  the  hot  partisanship  allayed  in  the  long 
weeks  of  reflection  preceding  the  rumor  of  Jack's  own 
death,  she  began  dimly  to  admit  of  palliation  in  her  lover's 
fatal  act.  Her  father,  the  Boone  faction,  all  who  had  ac- 


340  THE   IROX   GAME. 

cess  to  her,  held  the  shooting  to  be  a  craftily  planned  mur- 
der, calculated  to  bring  advantage  to  the  assassin.  To 
check  the  sacrilegious  love  she  felt  in  her  heart,  she  too 
had  been  forced  to  believe,  to  admit  the  worst.  But  when 
the  image  of  Jack  came  to  her  mind,  as  it  did  day  and 
night,  it  was  as  the  gay,  frank,  chivalrous  Hotspur,  as 
unlike  a  murderer  as  Golgotha  to  Hesperides.  She  had 
never  dared  to  confide  to  her  father  that  vows  had  been 
exchanged  between  them — that  they  were,  in  fact,  affianced 
lovers.  He,  never  suspecting,  talked  with  her  day  after 
day  of  the  signal  vengeance  in  store  for  the  miscreant;  how 
he  had  enlisted  the  aid  of  the  most  powerful  in  Washing- 
ton ;  how  he  had  instructed  the  emissaries  sent  to  Rich- 
mond to  effect  Wesley's  release,  to  direct  all  their  energies 
to  entrapping  the  murderer  into  the  ranks  of  the  escaping 
prisoners. 

She  had  often  been  startled  by  her  father's  far-seeing, 
malignantly  planned  vengeances,  and,  now  that  the  rumor 
of  Jack's  death  began  to  settle  into  belief,  she  was  appalled 
by  a  sudden  sense  of  complicity  in  a  murderous  plot.  Not 
fiat  she  believed  her  father  capa'ble  of  murder  or  its  pro- 
curation, but,  knowing  his  potency  with  the  authorities,  she 
saw  that  there  were  many  ways  in  which  Jack  might  be 
sacrificed  in  the  natural  course  of  military  duties.  She  had 
heard  things  of  the  sort  discussed — how  inconvenient  men 
had  been  sent  into  pitfalls  and  never  heard  of  again. 

She  began  dimly  to  see  that,  at  worst,  Jack's  act  was  not 
the  calculated  murder  her  father  held  it  to  be.  In  her  own 
tortured  mind  there  had  been  at  first  but  one  clear  process 
of  reasoning.  That  process,  whenever  she  began  to  gather 
the  shreds,  had  led  her  mind  straight  to  the  conviction  that 
Jack's  shot  had  been  premeditated,  that  the  chance  had  been 
prearranged  with  the  enemies  of  her  brother.  At  first  her 
only  distinct  thought  was  that  the  hapless  Wesley  had  been 
lured  to  his  death.  The  hand  of  the  man  she  loved  had 
sent  the  fatal  shot  into  the  poor  boy's  body.  Had  it  been  in 
self-defense — even  in  the  heat  of  uncontrollable  anger— she 
could  have  found  mitigation  for  Jack ;  but  there  was  nei- 


A   WOMAN'S   REASON.  341 

ther  the  justification  of  self-defense  nor  the  plausible  pretext 
of  anger.  One  word  of  warning,  which  Jack  could  have 
spoken,  would  have  saved  Wesley  from  the  rash,  the  das- 
tardly attempt  upon  the  Eosedale  household.  The  plot,  in 
all  its  details,  must  have  been  known  to  Jack  or  Dick,  else 
how  explain  their  presence  in  the  chamber,  armed  and  ready 
for  the  murder  ? 

It  had  been  a  conspiracy  of  delusive  kindness  from  the 
day  Wesley  entered  Rosedale.  The  f  rankness  and  kindliness 
of  the  Atterburys  had  been  assumed  to  lure  him  to  his  fatal 
adventure.  Boone  himself  believed  that  Jack's  ignoble  am- 
bition and  envy  had  been  the  main  motives  in  the  murder. 
To  this  Kate,  from  the  first,  opposed  a  resolute  incredulity. 

"  You  don't  know  the  fellow,  I  tell  you,"  Boone  doggedly 
argued.  "  He's  as  like  his  father  as  two  snakes  in  a  hole. 
Old  man  Sprague  never  let  a  man  stand  in  his  way.  Jack's 
the  same.  He  thought  Wes'  kept  him  from  the  shoulder- 
straps,  and  he  got  him  out  of  the  way.  Wasn't  he  always 
snooping  'round  in  the  regiment  trying  to  undermine  your 
brother  ?  Wasn't  he  always  trying  to  be  popular  ?  Ah,  I 
know  the  Spragues.  But  I'll  give  them  a  wrench  that'll 
twist  their  damned  pride  out  of  them.  I'll  have  that  cold- 
blooded young  villain  shot  in  a  hollow  square,  and  I'll  have 
it  done  in  this  very  district,  that  the  whole  county  may 
know  the  disgrace  of  the  high  and  mighty  Spragues." 

"No,  father."  Kate  had  heard  all  this  before,  but  she, 
for  the  first  time,  resolved  upon  setting  her  father  right. 
"  No,  Jack  hasn't  a  particle  of  the  feeling  you  ascribe  to  him. 
I  don't  think  he  liked  poor  Wesley.  They  were  totally  un- 
like in  nature,  and  I  think  that  Jack  felt  deeply  that  he  had 
been  wronged  by  Wesley's  appointment.  But  it  was  not  in 
his  nature  to  seek  revenge.  He  would  have  fought  Wesley 
openly,  but  he  would  never  be  ono  of  a  gang  of  murderers. 
I  think  I  can  see  how  Jack  was  led  into  the  part  he  played. 
It  does  not  lessen  the  guilt,  but  it  relieves  him  of  the  odious 
suspicions  I  first  felt." 

Then  Boone,  in  irritable  impatience,  reminded  her  of 
her  own  earlier  utterances  ;  how  from  his  first  coming 


342  THE   IRON   GAME. 

Wesley  had  been  treated  with  studied  distrust  ;  how  he  had 
been  denied  the  boyish  intimacy  that  existed  between  Jack 
and  Dick  ;  how  he  was  insensibly  made  to  feel  that  he  was 
in  the  house  under  a  different  cartel  from  that  of  Jack  and 
Dick  ;  that  he  was  a  prisoner  on  parole,  and  his  word  was 
doubted.  Nothing  could  make  him  believe,  he  declared, 
getting  up  moodily,  but  that  the  whole  lot  of  them  had  set 
out  to  drive  Wesley  into  a  corner  and  then  kill  him,  as  they 
had  done. 

Kate  sighed  wearily  as  her  father  left  the  room.  If  she 
could  only  be  as  well  assured  as  her  strong  words  implied  ! 
Ah  !  if  she  could  fetch  back  her  lover  by  getting  at  the 
truth,  how  willingly  she  would  fly  to  Rosedale  and  learn  all ! 
But  she  dared  not  question,  lest  questioning  should  confirm, 
where  she  now  at  least  had  the  miserable  solace  of  doubt. 
Could  it  be  true  ?  Could  Jack  be  the  base  schemer  her  father 
depicted  him  ?  Then  her  mind  ran  back  to  Eosedale.  She 
lived  again  all  the  enchanting  days  of  that  earthly  paradise. 
She  saw  Wesley's  furtive  starts,  his  strange  disappearances, 
his  growing  melancholy,  his  moody  reticence  when  she 
questioned  him.  Ah  !  if  he  had  but  confided  to  her  !  If 
she  had  but  dreamed  of  the  desperate  purpose  born  of  the 
loneliness  he  lived  in !  If  Jack  had  been  loyal  to  him,  loyal 
to  her,  Wesley  would  have  been  warned  that  eager  eyes 
were  upon  him,  ready  wits  reading  his  purposes,  and  revenge- 
ful hatred  ready  to  slaughter  him. 

When  the  news  came  that  Jack  had  lost  his  life  in  the 
very  enterprise  Wesley  had  contemplated,  Kate  collapsed 
under  the  shock.  Now,  when  it  was  too  late,  she  convinced 
herself  that  he  was  innocent.  If  she  could  have  recalled 
him  to  life,  she  cried  in  self-reproach,  she  would  not  ask 
whether  he  was  all  her  first  impulse  had  painted  him.  She 
had  borne  up  with  something  like  composure  when  Wesley's 
death  came  upon  her  ;  but  now,  tortured  by  a  sense  of  re- 
sponsibility in  Jack's  fate,  she  gave  way  to  the  grief  she  had 
so  long  repressed.  If  she  had  not  upbraided  him,  if  she  had 
not  accused  him,  in  so  many  words,  of  murder,  he  would 
never  have  embarked  on  the  mad  plot  of  escape. 


A   WOMAN'S   REASON.  343 

She  had  driven  him  to  his  death.  She  had  sat  silent 
while  Acredale  rang  with  calumnies  against  him.  It  was 
not  too  late  yet  to  make  reparation.  She  would  proclaim 
publicly  that  her  brother  had  rashly  courted  his  own  death ; 
that  Jack  had  unknowingly  shot  him  down,  as  many  a  man 
does,  in  battle,  shoot  his  best  friend.  She  resolved  on  the 
instant  to  go  to  the  stricken  family  and  make  such  expiation 
there  as  was  in  her  power.  But  was  there  any  certainty 
that  the  report  of  Jack's  death  was  true  ?  Grievous  mistakes 
of  the  same  sort  had  been  made  repeatedly  in  the  public 
journals.  She  was  not  able  to  formulate  any  plan  at  first. 
Her  father  was  more  morose  than  ever.  He  seemed  in  his 
way  to  deplore  the  young  man's  death,  but  not  in  pity,  as 
she  soon  learned.  Death  had  robbed  him  of  a  cruelly  medi- 
tated revenge.  She  wisely  made  no  comment  when  this 
brutal  feeling  betrayed  itself  ;  but  for  the  first  time  in  her 
life  the  girl  shuddered  at  the  sight  of  her  father.  The  vague 
rumors  of  years,  that  had  been  whispered  about  him — ru- 
mors which  of  old  had  fired  her  soul  with  hot  indignation, 
came  back  insidiously.  She  shuddered.  Was  she  to  lose 
all — brother,  lover,  father — in  this  unnatural  strife  ?  She  had 
been  so  loyal  to  her  father.  She  had  been  so  proud  of  him 
when  others  reviled.  She  had  felt  so  serenely  confident  of 
the  nobleness  of  his  heart,  the  generosity  of  his  impulses. 
She  had  always  been  able  to  mold  him,  as  she  thought. 
Could  it  be  possible  that  he  was  human  to  her,  inhuman  to 
the  rest  of  the  world  ?  Then  her  mind,  tortured  by  newly 
awakened  doubts,  ran  back  over  the  events  leading  to  the 
rupture  with  the  Spragues.  She  groaned  at  the  retrospect. 
It  was  injustice  that  had  displaced  Jack  in  the  command  of 
the  company.  It  was  injustice  that  had  marked  her  father's 
conduct  in  the  Perley  feud. 

Grief  is  a  logician  of  very  direct  methods.  Its  clari- 
fying processes  work  like  light  in  darkness.  Kate  saw  the 
past  in  her  father's  conduct  with  terrifying  vividness.  She 
realized  that  it  was  her  father's  harsh  purpose  that  had 
arrayed  Acredale  against  him.  It  was  his  pride  and  arro- 
gant obstinacy  that  had  brought  about  the  loss  of  all  she 


344  THE   IRON   GAME. 

loved.  The  fates  had  immolated  the  helpless  ;  were  the 
fates  preparing  a  still  bitterer  expiation  '{  Life  had  very 
little  left  for  her  now,  but  she  resolved  that  she  would 
no  longer  be  isolated  by  her  father's  enmities.  The  great 
house  had  been  gloomy  enough  for  father  and  daughter 
during  the  last  miserable  months,  but  he  still  fled  to  her 
for  comfort.  It  was  one  evening  when  he  came  in,  appar- 
ently in  better  spirits  than  he  had  shown  since  Wesley's 
death,  that  she  told  him  what  had  been  filling  her  mind 
since  Jack's  death. 

"  O  father,  I  think  I  see  that  our  lives  have  been  un- 
worthy, if  not  altogether  wrong.  Surely  such  neighbors  as 
ours  could  not  all  take  sides  against  you,  if  you  were  in  the 
right  in  all  the  feuds  that  have  divided  us  as  a  family  from 
the  people  of  Acredalc." 

Then,  in  an  almost  imploring  tone  of  reproach,  she  re- 
traced the  harsh  episodes  in  the  father's  dealings  with  the 
Perleys,  with  the  community,  and,  finally,  the  quarrel  with 
the  Spragues,  involving  in  it  the  lives  of  Wesley  and  Jack. 
Her  voice  softened  into  tremulousness.  She  arose,  and  in 
her  old  pleading  way  pulled  the  shaggy  head  down  on  her 
breast,  pressing  her  lips  on  the  high,  bare  forehead. 

"  Dear  father,  all  this  is  unchristian ;  you  have  in  reality 
been  waging  war  against  women  and  children.  Jack  was  a 
mere  boy.  Eichard  is  a  boy.  I  don't  go  into  other  enmi- 
ties, where  you  have  used  the  enormous  power  of  wealth  to 
crush  the  helpless.  If  you  had  not  alienated  the  Spragues 
and  encouraged  Wesley  in  overbearing  Jack,  my  brother 
would  be  alive  to-day.  My  sweetheart— yes,  Jack  was  dearer 
than  all  the  world  to  me— he  would  not  be  dead  to-day. 
Ah !  father,  father,  what  good  comes  of  anger — what  joy  of 
revenge  ?  You  have  brought  about  the  death  of  these  two 
boys.  Is  it  not  time  to  look  at  life  with  a  new  heart— with 
clear-seeing  eyes  ? " 

Elisha  Boone  sat  quite  still.  He  had  listened  at  first 
with  a  flush  of  anger,  which  deepened  as  the  girl  pleaded, 
until  it  died  away  and  left  his  face  very  pale.  He  pushed 
himself  away  from  the  clinging  figure,  as  if  the  better  to  see 


A  WOMAN'S   REASON.  345 

her  face.  Then  his  head  drooped.  He  sighed  heavily,  rose 
and  without  a  word  left  the  room.  Kate  heard  him  ascend- 
ing the  stairs,  then  the  sound  of  his  room  door  softly  clos- 
ing. Had  the  hateful  fires  of  vengeance  been  quenched  ?  It 
was  her  father's  way,  when  resolutely  opposed,  to  quit  the 
scene  and  without  confessing  himself  in  the  wrong,  do  as 
Kate  urged.  The  next  morning  he  was  gone  before  she 
reached  the  breakfast-table.  There  was  a  note  on  her  plate 
in  his  handwriting.  She  read  with  a  sinking  heart : 

"  MY  DAUGHTER:  If  what  you  said  last  night  is  true,  you 
can  not  be  the  daughter  to  me  that  you  have  been.  I  am 
going  to  Washington,  and  when  I  come  back  you  will  know 
that  your  brother  was  deliberately  murdered,  and  that  his 
murderer,  even  in  the  grave,  is  held  guilty  before  all  men 
of  the  crime." 

The  servant  confirmed  the  tidings.  Her  father  had 
arisen  early  and  departed  on  the  first  train.  What  could 
it  mean  ?  Had  he  some  evidence  that  she  had  not  heard  ? 
Had  Jack  left  papers  incriminating  him  ?  Ah!  why  carry 
the  hideous  feud  further  ?  Why  blast  the  melancholy  re- 
pose of  the  living,  by  fastening  this  stain  upon  the  dead  ? 
But  they  could  not.  She  knew  it.  She  could  herself  refute 
any  proof  brought  forward.  She  would  tell  all.  She  would 
reveal  their  tender  relationship,  and  surely  then  any  one, 
knowing  the  young  man's  nature,  would  scout  the  assertion 
of  his  willfully  shooting  Wesley.  But  surely  Olympia  and 
Mrs.  Sprague  must  be  able  to  tell,  and  tell  decisively,  the 
circumstances  in  the  tragedy.  She  would  go  to  them.  She 
owed  this  to  the  living;  she  owed  it  still  more  imperatively 
to  the  dead.  She  had  not  seen  Olympia  since  her  return. 
Mrs.  Sprague  had  been  too  infirm  to  see  her  when  she  called. 
But  she  would  not  heed  rebuffs  now.  In  such  a  cause,  on 
such  a  mission,  she  would  have  stood  at  the  Sprague  door  a 
suppliant  until  even  the  obstinacy  of  her  father  would  have 
relented.  On  her  way  across  the  square  she  saw  Meriy  com- 
ing from  the  post.  She  turned  out  of  her  way,  and  hurrying 
to  the  near-sighted  spinster  held  out  her  hand,  saying,  softly : 


346  THE   IRON   GAME. 

"  Ah,  Miss  Merry,  I'rn  so  glad  to  see  you !  I  have  been 
meaning  to  call  on  you  ever  since  I  heard  of  your  return, 
but,  what  with  sorrow  and  illness,  I  have  put  it  off,  and  now 
I  want  you  to  take  me  home  with  you.  Will  you  not  ? " 

The  pleading  tone,  the  caressing  clasp  of  the  hand,  the 
sadly  changed  face,  the  somber  black  weeds,  made  the  voice 
and  figure  so  much  unlike  the  old  Kate,  that  Merry  stood 
for  an  instant  confused  and  blushing  as  she  stammered : 

"  Bless  me,  Miss  Kate,  I— I — shouldn't  have  known  you. 
Ah,  I  am  very  glad  to  see  you ;  sisters  will  be  very  glad  to 
see  you,  too.  Do,  do  come  right  along  with  me.  I'm  afraid 
the  parlor  won't  be  very  sightly,  but  you  won't  mind,  will 
you  ? " 

Kate  squeezed  the  hand  still  resting  in  her  own,  and 
drawing  the  long  veil  back  over  face,  she  walked  silently 
with  the  puzzled  spinster,  unable  to  broach  the  theme  she 
had  at  heart.  Merry  spared  her  the  torture  of  going  at  it 
obliquely. 

"  I  have  just  been  at  the  Spragues.  Poor  dears,  they  are 
in  dreadful  distress.  Mrs.  Sprague  is  preparing  to  go  in 
search  of  the  body,  but  Olympia  won't  give  in  that  Jack  is 
killed.  She  says  that  if  he  had  been  she  certainly  would 
have  known  it  in  Richmond,  for  there  are  couriers  twice  a 
day  from  the  rebel  outposts  to  the  capital ;  that  the  Atter- 
burys  had  taken  special  measures  to  learn  the  fate  of  tlie  es- 
caped prisoners;  that,  besides  this,  several  young  men  in 
Richmond,  who  knew  Jack  well,  had  been  sent  down  the 
peninsula  with  the  prisoners,  to  befriend  him  in  case  he 
were  retaken." 

"  And  Olympia  believes  that  Jack  is  alive  ? " 

"Yes,  firmly." 

"  Where  does  she  think  he  is  ? " 

"  She  believes  that  he  is  among  a  squad  separated  from 
the  rest  of  the  prisoners,  near  the  Union  lines.  It  was  as- 
serted in  Richmond  that  many  had  crossed  the  James  River, 
and  were  making  for  the  Dismal  Swamp,  or  into  Burnside's 
lines  in  North  Carolina." 

"Dear  Miss  Merry,  I — I — think  I  won't  go  in  now,"  Kate 


A   WOMAN'S   REASON.  347 

said,  tremblingly.  "I  must  see  Olympia.  Perhaps  I  can 
help  them  in  the  search  for  Jack,  and  you  know  there  is  no 
time  to  lose.  I  shall  come  and  see  you  all  soon." 

She  squeezed  the  astonished  Merry's  hand  convulsively, 
and  shot  off,  leaving  the  bewildered  lady  quite  speechless,  so 
speechless  that,  when  she  reached  the  stately  presence  of 
Aunt  Pliny,  she  forgot  the  commissions  she  had  been  sent 
to  execute,  and  was  at  once  reviled  by  the  parrot  as  "  a  no- 
account  dawdler." 

Meanwhile,  Kate,  with  wild,  throbbing  hope  in  her  heart 
that  kindled  color  in  her  pale  cheeks  and  light  in  her  weary 
eyes,  sped  away  to  the  Spragues.  There  was  no  tremor  in 
the  hand  that  raised  the  dragon-headed  knocker,  nor  hesi- 
tancy in  the  voice  that  bade  the  servant  say  that  ''Miss 
Boone  requested  a  few  moments'  conversation  with  Miss 
Sprague." 

Olympia  came  presently  into  the  reception-room,  and  the 
girls  met  with  a  warm  embrace. 

"  Ah,  Olympia,  I  have  been  made  so — so — glad  by  what 
Merry  tells  me !  You — do — not  believe  that  your  brother  is 
dead  ? "  Her  voice  faltered,  and  Olympia,  gazing  at  her 
fixedly,  said: 

"  No,  I  shall  not  believe  Jack  is  dead  until  I  see  his  body. 
Poor  mother,  who  believes  the  worst  whenever  we  are  out 
of  her  sight,  has  given  up  all  but  the  faintest  hope.  I  shall 
not.  I  know  Jack  so  well.  I  know  that  it  would  take  a 
good  deal  to  kill  him,  young  and  strong  as  he  is.  Besides 
that,  I  know  that  the  Atterburys  would  find  means  to  let  us 
know,  if  there  were  any  certainty  as  to  his  fate.  Poor  Jack  ! 
It  would  be  an  unendurable  calamity  if  he  were  to  die  before 
the  monstrous  calumnies  that  have  been  published  about  him 
are  proved  lies." 

"  Dear  Olympia,  that  is  one  reason  of  my  coming.  In  my 
horror  at  Rosedale,  I,  too,  believed  that  John  had  been  in  a 
plot  to  entrap  Wesley;  but  I — I — know  better  now,  and  I 
have  come  to  tell  you  that  it  is  no  less  my  duty  than  my 
right  to  see  that  your  brother's  memory  is  made  as  spotless 
as  his  life." 


34:8  THE   IRON    GAME. 

"  I  knew  it ;  I  knew  you  would  do  it ;  I  told  Jack  so  in 
Richmond,  almost  the  last  words  I  said  before  he  set  out  on 
this  miserable  adventure.  I  told  him  you  were  not  the  girl 
I  took  you  for  if  you  could  believe  him  to  be  such  a  dastard, 
when  you  had  time  to  get  over  the  shock  of  poor  Wesley's 
death.  You  never  heard  the  whole  story  of  that  dreadful 
night.  I  must  tell  it  to  you — as  he  would  if  he  were  here, 
and  I  know  you  would  believe  him.''  The  two  girls  sat 
down,  hand  in  hand,  and  Olympia  told  the  tale  as  it  has 
been  set  down  in  these  pages. 

Kate  was  sobbing  when  the  story  ended.  She  flung  her 
arms  about  Olympia's  neck,  and  for  a  time  the  two  sat  silent, 
tearful. 

"  Oh,  why  didn't  he  tell  me  this  at  the  time  ?  It  was  not 
Jack's  bullet  that  entered  poor  Wesley's  body.  Jack  was  at 
his  right,  at  the  side  of  the  bed.  Wesley's  wound  was  on 
the  left  side,  and  the  shot  must  have  come  from  Jones's 
pistol!" 

"  I  remember  that ;  but  Jack's  remorse  put  all  thought  of 
everything  else  out  of  my  head.  I  recall,  perfectly,  that  the 
wound  was  in  Wesley's  left  side.  Oh,  if  I  could  only  get 
that  word  to  Jack !  If—" 

"  I'll  get  it  to  him  if  he's  alive.  I,  or  mine,  have  been  his 
undoing!  I  shall  make  amends.  Ah,  Olympia,  I — I  am 
ashamed  to  feel  so  full  of  joy — forgive  me." 

"  It  isn't  your  fault,  dear,  that  you  didn't  know  Jack  as 
we  do,"  Olympia  said,  tenderly. 

"  What  are  your  plans  ? "  Kate  asked,  presently. 

"  Mother  insists  upon  going  to  the  peninsula  and  exam- 
ining the  ground,  questioning  all  who  took  part  in  the  pur- 
suit, and  seeing  with  her  own  eyes  every  wounded  man  in 
the  neighborhood.  I  don't  know  whether  we  can  get  passes, 
but  we  shall  set  out  at  once  and  do  our  best." 

"  0  Olympia,  I  must — I  must  go  with  you !  I  shall  die  if 
I  remain  here  doing  nothing — helpless!  Let  me  go.  lean 
aid  you  much.  I  can  surely  get  all  the  passports  required. 
I  can  do  many  things  that  you  couldn't  do,  for  my  father — r 

She  stopped  and  colored.     Her  father!    What  was  she 


A   WOMAN'S   REASOX.  349 

rashly  promising  for  him  ?  Dead,  he  was  bent  on  Jack's 
dishonor ;  living,  he  would  never  rest  until  Jack's  life  was 
condemned. 

"Ah,  yes — that's  true.  Your  father  is  potent  at  head- 
quarters. I  can  answer  for  mamma.  We  shall  be  delighted 
and  comforted  to  have  you.  I  shall  need  you  as  much  as 
mamma  needs  me.  We  are  only  waiting  for  Mr.  Brodie's 
report.  I  don't  expect  much  from  his  researches.  It  is  only 
a  woman's  heart  that  upholds  one  in  such  trials  as  this  search 


The  plans  were  agreed  upon  at  once  and  the  two  girls 
separated,  knit  together  by  the  same  bond  in  more  senses 
than  one,  for,  while  Olympia  set  out  to  rescue  her  brother, 
she  secretly  hoped  that  the  search  would  bring  her  near 
some  one  else ;  and  so,  as  soon  as  Kate  had  gone,  she  sat 
down  and  wrote  Vincent  of  Jack's  disappearance,  asking  his 
aid  in  finding  such  traces  as  might  be  in  the  rebel  lines. 
She  merely  alluded  to  their  projected  plan,  adding,  in  a  post- 
script, that  she  would  write  him  as  soon  as  the  party  ap- 
proached the  outposts.  Kate  wrote  at  once  to  her  father,  at 
his  Washington  address,  narrating  her  visit  to  the  Spragues, 
telling  him  of  the  new  hope  that  had  come  to  her,  and  be- 
seeching him  to  lend  his  whole  heart  to  the  distressed  mother 
and  sister.  He  should  see  her  in  Washington  within  a  few 
days,  and  she  counted  on  his  sympathy  with  her  to  help  to 
restore  the  lost  son  and  brother  if  alive,  to  co-operate  in  giv- 
ing the  body  honorable  burial  if  he  were  dead.  These  let- 
ters dispatched,  the  party  waited  only  to  hear  from  Brodie. 
He  came  a  day  or  two  later,  but  he  could  give  them  no  hope. 
He  had  been  repelled  from  all  sources  of  information,  in- 
sulted in  the  War  Office,  and  denied  access  to  the  President. 
He  was  convinced  that  there  were  secret  influences  at  work 
to  obscure  the  true  facts  in  the  case  of  the  escaped  prisoners, 
but  what  the  agencies  were  he  could  not  guess.  When 
Olympia  told  this  to  Kate,  she  was  surprised  at  her  look  and 
response. 

"I  know  the  influences,  I  think,  and  I  can  discover  the 
agencies.  Take  comfort.  I  believe  Jack  is  alive.  I  prom- 


350  THE   IRON   GAME. 

ise  you  that  I  shall  never  rest  until  he  is  found,  alive  or 
dead." 

"O  Kate,  what  an  impulsive  ally  we  have  gained!  I 
wish  Jack  could  have  heard  that  speech ;  it  would  have  put 
power  in  his  arm,  as  poor  Barney  used  to  say." 

Twenty-four  hours  later  the  three  women  were  in  Wash- 
ington, Kate  remaining  with  her  friends,  instead  of  joining 
her  father  at  Willard's. 


CHAPTER  XXX. 

A  GAME  OF  CHANCE. 

IT  was  the  end  of  January,  1862,  when  Olympia  and  her 
mother  found  themselves  in  Washington  for  the  second 
time  in  quest  of  the  missing  soldier.  They  took  lodgings  in 
the  same  quiet  house,  not  far  from  Lafayette  Square — Kate 
with  them.  Kate  counted  upon  her  father's  aid,  active  or 
passive ;  but  when  her  messenger  returned  from  Willard's 
with  word  that  Mr.  Boone  had  gone  from  the  hotel  several 
days  before,  she  was  numb  with  a  dreadful  foreboding.  He 
was  avoiding  her  deliberately.  She  drove  at  once  to  the 
hotel.  The  clerk  summoned  to  her  aid  could  only  inform 
her  that  her  father  had  given  up  his  room  and  had  left  the 
hotel  late  at  night.  She  could  get  no  further  clew.  She  tele- 
graphed at  once  to  Acredale  and  returned  to  the  Spragues, 
not  daring  to  breathe  her  apprehensions.  Yes,  her  father 
was  plainly  keeping  away  from  her.  He  meant  to  persist 
in  his  savage  vengeance.  What  had  he  learned  ?  Was 
Jack  indeed  dead,  and  was  his  good  name  the  object  of  her 
father's  hatred  ?  Whither  should  she  turn  ?  Why  had  she 
not  thought  of  this — her  fathers  passivity  or  even  opposi- 
tion ?  How  could  she  reveal  her  terrors  to  the  mother  and 
sister  ?  How  make  known  to  them  the  unworthy  side  of 
her  father's  character  ?  If  in  the  morning  no  telegram  came 


A   GAME   OF   CHANCE.  351 

from  Acredale,  it  would  be  proof  that  her  father  was  bent, 
implacably  in  his  purpose  to  undo  Jack,  living  or  dead. 
When  she  reached  the  lodging,  Olympia  was  dressed  for  the 
street. 

"  You  are  just  in  time.  I  have  matured  my  plans.  First, 
we  must  find  out  at  the  proper  quarter  the  names  of  all  the 
wounded  brought  here  from  Fort  Monroe.  Then  we  must 
trace  the  report  in  the  Herald  down  to  its  origin.  Then  we 
must  visit  every  hospital  in  and  near  Washington  to  find 
out  from  actual  sight  of  each  man  whether  Jack  or  Dick,  or 
any  one  we  know,  is  in  the  city.  As  we  go  on,  we  shall 
learn  a  good  deal  which  may  modify  this  plan,  or  perhaps 
make  the  search  less  difficult." 

Olympia  said  this  with  composure  and  a  certain  confi- 
dence in  herself  that  struck  Kate  with  admiration.  She  felt 
ashamed  of  herself.  Here  was  Olympia,  unconscious  of 
Jack's  real  peril  if  living,  the  menace  to  his  reputation  if 
dead,  planning  as  composedly  as  if  it  were  an  every-day 
thing  to  have  a  brother  lost  in  the  appalling  mazes  of  war; 
and  she  had  been  weakly  depending  upon  her  father,  Jack's 
most  persevering  enemy !  She  recoiled  from  herself  in  a 
shiver  of  self-reproach  as  she  said: 

"  Olympia,  you  have  the  good  sense  of  a  man  in  an  emer- 
gency. I  am  ashamed  of  myself.  I,  who  ought  to  do  the 
thinking  for  you,  am  as  helpless  as  a  kitchen-maid  set  to 
playing  lady  in  the  parlor.  I  can  at  least  help  you;  I  can 
make  my  body  follow  you,  if  I  haven't  sense  enough  to 
suggest." 

'*  Dear  Kate,  it  isn't  sense,  or  insight,  or  any  fine  quality 
of  mind  that  is  needed  here.  All  I  ask  is,  that  you  won't 
get  dispirited,  or,  if  you  do,  don't  let  mamma  see  you  are. 
Poor  mamma !  She  is  as  easily  influenced  as  a  baby.  Jack 
is  her  darling,  remember.  All  the  world  is  a  small  affair 
to  her  compared  with  our  poor  boy.  I  fancy,  if  we  were  as 
much  wrapped  up  in  him  as  she  is,  we  should  make  poor 
pioneers  in  the  wilderness  before  us." 

But  Kate  could  stand  no  more  of  this.  With  a  choking 
sob  she  turned  and  fled  up  the  stairway,  crying  as  she 
23 


352  THE   IRON   GAME. 

disappeared  :  "  Wait  —  wait  a  moment ;  I  must  get  my 
purse." 

When  she  reappeared,  the  heavy  mourning-veil  was 
drawn  down,  and  Olympia,  with  a  reassured  glance,  opened 
the  door. 

"  You  must  affect  confidence,  if  you  have  it  not — even 
gayety.  I  warn  you  not  to  be  shocked  at  my  conduct.  I 
must  keep  up  mamma's  spirits,  and  to  do  it  I  must  play  in- 
difference or  confidence,  and  you  must  be  careful  to  say 
nothing,  to  do  nothing,  to  excite  her  suspicions." 

Kate's  cab  had  driven  off,  and  the  two  girls  walked 
through  Lafayette  Square  into  Pennsylvania  Avenue  to  get 
another.  The  wide  streets  were  filled,  as  of  old,  with  skur- 
rying  orderlies,  groups  of  lounging  officers,  and  lumbering 
army  wagons.  But  even  the  untrained  eyes  of  Olympia 
soon  took  account  of  the  better  discipline,  the  more  business- 
like celerity  of  the  men  on  duty  as  well  as  the  flying  couri- 
ers. The  White  House  was  gay  with  bunting,  and  salutes 
from  the  distant  forts  were  signalizing  the  news  that  had 
just  come  of  Union  successes  at  Mill  Spring  and  Roanoke 
Island.  The  girls,  procuring  a  hack,  were  driven  to  the 
provost-general's  office.  Here,  after  an  interminable  delay 
they  were  admitted  to  the  presence  of  a  complacent  young 
coxcomb  in  spotless  regimentals,  who,  so  soon  as  he  saw 
Olympia's  face  and  bearing,  threw  off  the  listlessness  of 
routine,  and,  rising  deferentially,  asked  her  pleasure.  She 
told  her  story  simply,  and  asked  his  advice  as  to  the  course 
to  be  followed.  When  the  extract  from  the  Herald  was 
shown  to  him,  he  examined  an  enormous  folio,  and  then 
rang  a  bell. 

"It  is  more  than  likely  that  these  names  are  wrong. 
This  happens  constantly.  The  operators  are  raw  and  some 
of  them  can  barely  read.  The  names  are  given  hurriedly, 
and  if  not  written  plainly  they  make  wretched  work  of 
them.  The  newspapers  make  many  a  fool  famous,  while 
neglecting  many  a  hero  who  deserves  fame,  simply  through 
the  blundering  or  carelessness  of  the  writers  or  operators. 
Here  is  an  orderly  who  will  take  you  to  the  surgeon-gen- 


A   GAME   OF   CHANCE.  353 

eral.  You  will  find  in  his  books  the  names  of  all  the  wound- 
ed in  hospital  in  the  Eastern  armies.  But  if  your  brother 
was  wounded  or  brought  in  wounded  at  Fort  Monroe,  his 
name  will  be  on  the  books  of  the  Army  of  the  Potomac  or 
the  Department  of  Eastern  Virginia." 

They  were  treated  with  the  same  deferential  gallantry  at 
the  surgeon-general's  office;  the  young  doctors,  indeed,  be- 
came almost  obtrusive  in  their  eagerness  to  spare  the  young 
women  the  drudgery  of  scrutinizing  the  long  lists  of  inva- 
lids. But,  after  two  days'  careful  search,  no  names  resem- 
bling Sprague  or  Perley  could  be  found. 

"  I  wonder  who  this  can  be  ? "  Kate  said,  returning  to  an 
entry  made  a  month  before:  "  Jones,  Warch ester ;  Caribee 
Regiment." 

"  I  know  no  one  of  that  name,"  Olympia  said,  "  but  per- 
haps he  might  know  something  of  Jack.  Let  us  go  to  him. 
It  will  do  no  harm  to  find  out  who  he  is." 

The  surgeon's  clerk  readily  gave  them  Jones's  address, 
reminding  them  that  the  hospital  was  in  Georgetown,  and 
that  they  would  be  too  late  to  obtain  entrance  to  the  patient 
that  day.  Next  morning  Mrs.  Sprague  was  too  ill  to  rise 
from  her  bed,  and  Olympia  could  not  leave  her  alone.  Kate 
undertook  the  investigation  into  the  Jones  affair  alone. 
When  she  reached  the  hospital  there  was  some  delay  before 
she  could  see  the  personage  intrusted  with  the  admission  of 
guests.  She  was  shown  into  an  office  on  the  ground-floor 
and  given  a  seat.  As  she  sat,  distraught  and  eager,  she 
heard  her  own  name  in  the  next  room,  the  door  of  which 
stood  open : 

"  It's  at  Boone's  risk.  He  would  have  him  moved,  and 
the  surgeon-general  gave  him  carte  blanche  with  the  pa- 
tient." 

"  Well,  it  will  cost  the  man  his  life.  I'll  stake  my  diplo- 
ma on  that.  Why,  the  journey  to  Warchester  alone  is 
enough  to  down  the  most  vigorous  convalescent." 

Kate  trembled.  What  did  this  mean  ?  What  was  'she 
hearing  ?  Boone — Warchester  ?  Whom  had  her  father  been 
taking  from  the  hospital— Jack  ?  Her  heart  gave  a  wild 


354  THE   IRON   GAME. 

leap.  Yes— Jack.  Who  else  did  her  father  know  in  the 
army  ?  She  arose  trembling1,  fainting,  but  resolute.  She 
reached  the  open  door,  but  tried  for  a  moment  in  vain  to 
ask: 

"  If  you  please,  tell  me,  tell  me — "  But  she  could  say  no 
more.  The  occupants  of  the  room,  in  undress  uniform, 
turned  upon  her  at  first  in  hostile  surprise,  but,  as  she  threw 
her  veil  farther  back  in  alarm,  the  elder  of  the  two  said : 

"  Pray,  madam,  what  is  it ;  are  you  ill  ? " 

"  No ;  may  I  sit  down,  please  ?  Thank  you.  I  am  come 
to,  to — "  What  should  she  say  ?  How  expose  the  doubt  of 
her  father  ?  How  find  out  for  certain  who  had  been  re- 
moved to  Warchester — abducted  was  the  word  her  agitated 
thoughts  shaped.  Oh,  if  Olyrnpia,  intrepid,  self-possessed, 
were  only  with  her ! — but  no,  not  Olympia  ;  no  one  must 
ever  know  the  unutterable  crime  she  suspected  her  father 
of.  She  must  be  brave.  She  must  be  resolute.  Oh,  where 
were  her  arts  now,  when  she  most  needed  them  ?  She  tried 
to  speak.  A  hoarse  gasping  came  in  her  throat  and  died 
there. 

"  Ah — ah — some  water ! — I — I  am  faint. " 

In  an  instant  a  goblet  of  cool  water  was  at  her  lips.  She 
drank  slowly,  deliberating  all  the  time  to  recover  her  senses ; 
the  surgeons— both  young  men,  mere  lads — waiting  respect- 
fully, inferring  much  from  the  melancholy  robes.  The 
water  cooled  her  head,  and  she  began  to  be  able  to  think 
coherently. 

"  I  have  the  surgeon-general's  permit  to  visit  a  patient  in 
your  fever  ward— Jones,  the  name  is.  Can  I  see  him  ? " 

"  Pray,  let  me  see  the  permit,  madam  ? "  He  glanced  at 
it,  looked  significantly  at  his  comrade,  and  said: 

"  This  man  was  removed  three  days  ago." 

"Whereto?" 

"Warchester." 

"  Ah! "  Kate's  veil,  by  an  imperceptible  gesture,  fell  over 
part  of  her  face.  A  great  trembling  came  upon  her  again. 
The  young  surgeons  exchanged  glances. 

"Who — who— did — who  asked  for  his  removal  ?" 


A  GAME   OF  CHANCE.  355 

"  A  Mr.  Boone,  also  of  Warchester." 

"Thank  you— I  am  too  late — I  wanted  to — to  ask  this 
Mr.  Jones  some  questions  concerning  a  dear  friend  in  his 
regiment.  But  I  can  write,  if  you  will  kindly  give  me  the 
address." 

"  I  am  very  sorry — beyond  Warchester  we  have  no  record 
here  of  his  whereabouts.  If  he  had  been  officially  trans- 
ferred to  another  government  hospital,  we  should  have 
all  the  facts.  But  the  removal  was  a  personal  favor  to 
Mr.  Boone.  He  is  well  known  both  here  and  in  Warches- 
ter, and  you  can  have  no  difficulty  in  communicating  with 
him." 

{k  Ah,  true;  I  had  forgotten  that." 

"If  we  can  be  of  any  service  to  you,  Miss  Sprague,"  the 
young  man  said,  handing  Kate  back  the  permit,  made  out 
in  Olympia's  name,  which  Kate  had  never  thought  of,  "  you 
can  always  reach  us  through  the  surgeon-general's  office." 
He  handed  her  a  card  with  his  own  and  his  comrade's  name 
in  pencil. 

Thanking  the  young  man  with  as  much  self-possession  as 
she  could  summon,  Kate  reached  the  carriage  in  a  whirl  of 
wild  imaginings,  more  terrifying  as  she  strove  to  reduce 
them  to  definite  shape.  Who  was  this  Jones  ?  Why  remove 
him  to  Warchester  ?  If  it  were  not  Jack,  what  interest  could 
her  father  have  in  his  removal  ?  But.  first,  what  could  she 
say  to  Olympia  ?  She  could  say  she  did  not  know  Jones, 
but  Olympia  would  surely  ask  what  questions  she  had  put 
to  him.  What  should  she  say  ?  That  he  had  been  taken 
away  from  the  hospital  ?  She  knew  Olympia  well  enough 
to  know  that  this  vague  story  would  only  incite  her  to 
further  inquiry.  She  would  find  out  the  father's  handiwork 
in  the  affair,  and  she,  too,  would  be  set  on  the  rack  of  sus- 
picion. 

When  the  carriage  reached  the  door,  Kate  dared  not 
enter.  She  dismissed  the  man  and  set  out  toward  the  green 
fields  below  the  rounded  slope  of  Meridian  Hill.  Here  she 
could  breathe  freely.  "  I  can  think  clearly  now,"  she  panted, 
with  a  gush  of  warm  tears.  If  she  could  only  remain  calm, 


356  THE   IRON   GAME. 

she  could  look  into  the  black  abyss  with  the  eye  of  reason, 
rather  than  terror.  Calmness  came  soothingly  as  she  walked, 
and  she  began  at  the  beginning,  weighing  probabilities.  All 
seemed  dark  and  hopeless,  until  she  came  back  to  the  record 
in  the  surgeon-general's  office.  Jones,  sent  from  Hampton 
Hospital,  December  13th.  This  was  about  the  time  Jack  had 
reached  the  Union  lines.  He  had  left  Richmond  late  in 
November.  All  Brodie's  inquiries  at  Fort  Monroe  had  been 
fruitless  in  finding  the  whereabouts  of  the  fugitives  that 
came  through  the  lines  at  that  tune.  Dick  had  been  one  of 
them.  If  Jones  were  not  Jack  himself,  he  must  have  been 
one  of  the  group  that  escaped  with  Jack.  It  all  led  back  to 
the  first  frightful  conjecture.  Her  father  was  abducting  a 
witness  who  could  divulge  Jack's  whereabouts,  or  he  was 
secreting  Jack  until  he  could  work  him  harm.  The  walk 
began  to  revive  Kate's  courage  as  well  as  her  faculties.  She 
must  act  with  energy.  The  hardest  part  of  the  problem  was 
to  get  clear  of  Olympia,  for  Kate  at  once  made  up  her  mind 
to  quit  Washington  that  very  night  for  home.  She  must 
evade  Olympia's  inquiries  as  best  she  could,  and  make  some 
excuse  for  journeying  thither. 

When  she  reached  home,  fortune  had  intervened  to  save 
her  conscience  from  the  falsehoods  she  feared  she  would 
have  to  employ.  The  landlady  met  her  in  the  hallway  with 
a  white  face. 

"  O  Miss  Boone,  Mrs.  Sprague  is  taken  very  bad.  The 
doctor's  with  her  now.  I  think  it  is  typhoid  fever." 

Up-stairs  misfortune  gave  her  a  further  release.  Olympia 
came  into  Kate's  room,  agitated  and  in  tears. 

"Ah,  Kate,  mamma  is  suffering  pitiably.  The  doctor 
thinks  it  is  typhoid,  and  he  ordered  me  to  remain  away 
from  her.  You  must  leave  the  house.  It  won't  do  for  all 
of  us  to  be  ill  together.  I  may  not  be  able  to  see  you  for 
days,  until  the  crisis  is  past,  But  you  must  continue  the 
search,  and  you  must  let  me  know,  from  day  to  day,  what 
you  learn.  There  are  letters  for  you —  I  hear  mamma.  I 
will  be  back  in  a  moment." 

Kate  fairly  hated  herself  for  the  passing  thrill  of  relief 


A   GAME   OF   CHAXCE.  357 

over  the  timely  illness  that  had  intervened  to  expedite  her 
mission.  She  glanced  over  the  letters.  There  was  one  in 
hai-  father's  hand,  postmarked  Acredale.  It  contained  no 
clew  to  his  purpose^,  but  she  read  tremblingly: 

''MY  DAUGHTER:  You  are  doing  a  foolish  thing.  The 
search  you  propose  can  lead  to  nothing.  All  that  can  be  done 
has  been  done  by  his  friends.  They  have  found  no  trace  of 
him.  Women  can  not  hope  to  succeed  where  so  keen  a  man 
as  Brodie  has  failed.  I  have  every  confidence  that  in  good 
time  the  matter  will  be  cleared  up,  but  you  must  remember 
that  the  Government  and  its  agents  have  all  they  can  do  to 
manage  and  keep  track  of  the  millions  of  soldiers  in  the 
field,  and  they  can  not  be  expected  to  take  much  interest  in 
the  fate  of  the  wounded  or  dead.  Always  affectionately, 

"YOUR  FATHER." 

All  doubt  of  her  father's  sinister  intervention  ha  Jack's 
disappearance  now  took  the  form  of  certainty  in  the  girl's 
mind.  When  Olympia  came  back,  a  few  moments  later, 
Kate  said,  tenderly  : 

"  I  have  news  from  home.  I  must  go  back  at  once.  It 
is  less  of  a  grief  to  me,  since  I  should  be  banished  from  you 
if  I  were  here.  I  shall  not  be  gone  long.  I  shall  certainly 
be  back  as  soon  as  you  can  receive  me.  In  the  mean  while, 
don't  despair.  I  have  been  put  on  a  new  trail  that  I  can 
not  explain  to  you  now.  But  I  can  say  this  much,  when 
you  see  me  again  you  shall  know  whether  Jack  is  alive  or 
dead." 

Olympia,  who  had  been  so  strong,  cheery,  and  masterful 
when  it  had  been  a  question  of  reassuring  her  mother,  was 
now  the  stricken  spirit.  She  looked  at  Kate  through  swim- 
ming eyes,  and  her  voice  was  lost  in  sobs  as  she  tried  to 
speak.  The  girls  held  each  other  in  a  tearful  silence,  neither 
able  to  say  what  was  in  the  minds  of  both.  Even  the  un- 
certainty had  a  sort  of  solace  compared  with  the  dreadful 
possibility  of  the  worst. 

"  Remember,  dear,  you  have  your  mother.     What  is  our 


358  THE   IRON   CAME. 

poor  grief  to  hers  ;  what  is  our  loss  to  hers  ?  It  ought  to 
comfort  you  to  know  that  whatever  human  thought,  cour- 
age, love  can  do  to  recover  Jack,  I  shall  do,  just  as  you 
would  in  my  place.  I  am  very  strong  and  resolute  now,  and 
I  am  filled  with  hope — so  filled  that  I  can  not  talk  to  you.  I 
dare  not  let  you  see  how  much  I  hope,  lest  if  it  be  not  ful- 
filled you  will  hate  me  for  inspiring  you  with  it." 

"I  will  hope.  I  do  believe  you  will  do  better  than  I 
should.  The  loving  are  the  daring — you  will  find  Jack.  I 
know  it." 

"Ah,  God  bless  you,  Olympia!  That  removes  a  curse 
from  me — I — I  mean  that  fills  me  with  a  courage  that  is  not 
my  own.  I  have  learned  yours  or  stolen  it.  But  you  will 
forgive  me,  for  I  mean  to  use  it  all  in  your  behalf." 

Olympia  smiled  sadly,  and  the  two  parted.  By  the  night 
express  Kate  left  the  city,  and,  the  next  afternoon,  reached 
Acredale.  As  she  anticipated,  her  father  was  not  at  home. 
He  had  only  been  an  hour  or  two  in  the  house  since  his  re- 
turn. The  servants  had  no  idea  where  he  was.  His  letters 
were  forwarded  to  him  under  cover  of  his  lawyers  in  War- 
chester.  If,  as  she  fearfully  surmised,  her  father  were  en- 
gaged in  some  cruel  scheme  to  the  hurt  of  Jack,  her  best 
way  with  him  would  be  perfect  frankness.  She  had  never 
yet  failed  in  swerving  him  from  his  most  headstrong  im- 
pulses when  she  could  talk  with  him.  She  must  have  him 
now  to  herself.  Her  best  plan,  therefore,  would  be  to  write. 
Yet  she  hardly  knew  how  to  frame  the  note,  reflecting  bit- 
terly, as  she  sat  twirling  her  pen,  on  the  monstrous  state  of 
things  that  made  writing  to  her  own  father  almost  a  du- 
plicity. At  length  she  wrote  : 

"  DEAREST  PAPA:  I  am  come  all  the  way  from  Washing- 
ton, leaving  poor  Mrs.  Sprague  very  low  with  fever,  and  her 
daughter  tormented  and  ill  with  anxiety.  I  feel,  I  know, 
that  you  can  relieve  the  distress  of  this  miserable  mother 
and  devoted  sister.  I  must  see  you.  I  felt  sure  of  seeing 
you  in  Washington,  and  you  can  imagine  my  surprise  and 
grief  when  they  told  me  at  the  hotel  that  you  had  gone.  Do 


A   GAME   OF   CHANCE.  359 

come  to  me,  or  let  me  come  to  you.  Your  daughter's  place 
is  with  you  or  near  you  now.  We  have  only  each  other 
in  this  world ;  pray,  dear  father,  let  nothing  come  between 
us ;  let  nothing  make  you  doubt  the  constant  love  of  your 
daughter.  KATE." 

The  note  dispatched,  she  went  immediately  to  the  Per- 
leys.  Perhaps  they  had  news  that  might  be  of  help.  No. 
The  three  ladies  met  her  with  agitated  volubility.  Had  she 
heard  from  their  nephew  ?  Had  Dick  escaped  with  Jack  ? 
Olympia  had  assured  them  that  he  had  quitted  Eichmond 
with  her  brother.  They  had  written  to  the  Caribee  regi- 
ment, and  received  word  that  no  trace  of  him  could  be 
found.  The  regiment,  or  what  was  left  of  it,  was  home  re- 
filling its  ranks.  The  officers,  indeed,  knew  nothing  of  such 
a  person  as  Richard  Perley.  McGoyle,  who  was  now  colonel, 
did  vaguely  recall  the  lad  at  Washington,  but  had  no  idea 
what  became  of  him.  Kate  found  a  new  grief  in  the  misery 
of  the  helpless  ladies.  But  she  could  give  them  no  comfort, 
and  returned  home  to  to  await  her  father's  coming.  In  the 
evening  a  messenger  brought  her  a  note.  It  was  in  the 
straight,  emphatic  hand  of  her  father.  He  wrote : 

"DEAR  DAUGHTER:  I  am  just  now  engaged  in  very  im- 
portant matters  that  require  me  to  move  about  considera- 
bly. I  shall  not  be  home  for  some  days.  I  am  glad  you 
have  come  home.  That's  the  place  for  you.  You  had  bet- 
ter let  the  matter  you  speak  of  alone.  The  mother  and  sis- 
ter are  enough  in  the  business.  I  don't  see  how  it  concerns 
you  or  me.  If  the  man  is  dead  it  will  be  known  as  soon  as 
the  commissioners  of  exchange  hand  in  their  lists.  If  he  is 
not  dead,  it  is  certainly  no  business  of  yours  or  mine  to  bring 
him  home.  I  will  write  you  soon  again.  Love  your  father. 
Keep  the  house  well  till  I  come." 

That  was  all.  More  than  evasive.  Subtly  calculated  to 
make  her  believe  that  he  had  dismissed  all  thought  of  Jack 
and  was  immersed  in  his  own  affairs.  She  sat  staring  and 


360  THE   IRON   GAME. 

helpless,  a  cold  horror  creeping  into  her  heart  and  a  name- 
less terror  taking  outline  in  her  senses.  Hideous  alterna- 
tive. To  be  coherent  she  must  suspect,  nay,  accuse,  her 
father  of  a  dreadful  duplicity.  He  was  deceiving  her;  else 
why  no  mention  of  his  mission  to  Washington — his  abduc- 
tion of  Jones  ?  Jones !  Who  was  he  ?  Oh,  blind  and  sense- 
less that  she  had  been !  Why  had  she  not  asked  the  young 
men  at  Georgetown  to  describe  Jones  ?  That  would  have 
revealed  all  she  needed  to  know.  Was  it  too  late  to  write 
them  ?  Yes  ;  but  could  she  throw  suspicion  upon  her 
father  by  writing  to  strangers,  and  of  necessity  exposing 
the  sinister  secrecy  of  her  father's  action.  But  she  could 
hurry  back  to  Washington,  and,  without  letting  the  young 
men  know,  get  a  descriptive  list.  This  she  resolved  to  do. 
Twenty-four  hours  later  she  was  in  Washington.  The 
journey  was  thrown  away.  The  descriptive  list  had  been 
sent  by  the  hospital  steward  with  the  invalid.  He  could  be 
found  in  the  military  hospital  in  Warchester.  His  name 
was  Leander  Elkins.  This  was  something  gained.  Two 
days  later  she  was  at  the  hospital  in  Warchester.  The  stew- 
ard, Elkins,  came  to  her  in  the  waiting-room.  He  was  a 
young  giant  in  stature,  with  light  flaxen  hair,  a  merry  blue 
eye,  and  so  bashful  in  the  presence  of  a  woman  that  he  col- 
ored rosily  as  Kate  asked  him  if  he  was  the  person  she  had 
sent  for. 

"  Yes'm,  I'm  Lee  Elkins,"  he  stammered,  very  much  per- 
plexed to  find  ease  for  his  large  hands  and  ample  feet. 

"  Are  you— is  Mr.  Jones,  who  came  from  the  Georgetown 
Hospital,  in  your  care  ? "  Kate  had  thought  out  her  course 
in  advance,  and  had  decided  that  the  direct  way  was  the 
best.  Unless  the  man  had  been  charged  to  conceal  facts, 
an  apparent  knowledge  of  Jones's  movements  would  be  the 
surest  way  of  eliciting  his  whereabouts. 

"  Oh  no,  miss,  Jones  wa'nt  brought  here ;  he  was  took  to 
a  private  place.  I  don't  rightly  know  where,  but  I  calcu- 
late I  ken  find  eout  ef  ye  want  to  know." 

"Yes,  I  should  like  very  much  to  know.  I  am  deeply  in- 
terested in  him.  Did  you  have  charge  of  him  ? " 


A  GAME   OF   CHANCE.  361 

"  I  can't  say  I  did.  I  was  sent  from  Washington  in  the 
same  train,  but  the  old  chap  that  got  Jones  removed  did  all 
the  nussing.  I  only  got  a  sight  of  him  as  he  was  lifted  into 
the  carriage." 

"  Should  you  know  him  again  if  you  saw  him  ? " 

"  Think  I  should.  Yes'm,  think  I  should.  His  head  was 
about  as  big  as  a  pumpkin." 

"  He  had  been  wounded  ?  " 

"  Well,  I  should  say  so." 

"Have  you  seen  the  gentleman  that  brought  him  on 
from  Washington  lately  ?  " 

"  Not  here,  mum  ;  I  did  see  him  in  the  street  the  other 
day.  He  was  in  a  wagon — leastwise,  it  looked  mighty  like 
him." 

Kate  began  to  breathe  more  freely.  Her  father  had,  at 
least,  avoided  any  collusion  with  inferiors.  His  handiwork 
had  been  natural,  involving  no  conspiracy  or  bribing  of 
menials. 

"  Do  you  think  you  could  find  out  for  me  where  Mr.  Jones 
is?" 

"Wall,  I  reckon  it  could  be  done.  It  may  take  some 
days,  as  I  must  trust  to  the  luck  of  running  upon  old  Do- 
funny  again." 

Kate  started.  "  Old  Dofunny  " — the  unsuspecting  humor- 
ist meant  her  father  by  this  jocular  nom  de  guerr'e,  and  she 
dared  not  resent  it.  How  should  she  gain  her  end  and  yet 
save  herself  from  the  humiliation  of  seeming  to  spy  upon 
her  father  ?  It  wouldn't  do  for  Elkins  to  go  to  him,  for  he 
would  at  once  suspect,  inquire,  and  learn  that  she  had  come 
upon  his  tracks.  If  she  could  only  see  him  face  to  face,  she 
would  be  spared  all  this  odious  complotting.  But  she  dared 
not  reject  the  means  Providence  had  put  in  her  hands.  And 
yet,  how  use  them,  and  avoid  throwing  suspicion  upon  her 
father  in  cautioning  Elkins  not  to  approach  him  ?  She  was 
not  equal  to  the  invention  of  a  plan  on  the  moment,  and 
said  in  a  doubting,  reflective  way: 

"  Never  mind.  I  may  be  able  to  learn  from  some  of  his 
friends  where  he  is.  The  gentleman  you  speak  of  does  not 


362  THE   IRON   GAME. 

live  in  this  city,  and  you  would  hai'dly  be  able  to  find  him. 
If  I  could  find  him  I  could  find  Mr.  Jones." 

"  Ah,  yes  ;  jes'  so.  Wall,  I  think  I  can  find  him  in 
another  way.  I  remember  the  carriage  that  took  him  from 
the  station.  I  can  find  out  from  the  driver.  'T'wan't  no 
mystery,  I  reckon." 

Kate  looked  into  the  innocent  blue  eyes  as  the  young  fel- 
low scratched  his  tow  head,  wondering  whether  he  was  as 
simple-minded  as  he  seemed.  He  stood  the  scrutiny  with 
blushing  restiveness,  in  which  there  was  nothing  of  the 
malign,  and  she  resolved  that  he  was  to  be  trusted. 

"  Very  well,"  she  said,  indifferently,  "  that  does  seem  the 
shortest  way  to  find  out  the  poor  fellow's  whereabouts.  Get 
the  facts,  and  you  shall  be  well  paid  for  your  trouble." 

"  'Tain't  no  trouble,  miss,  if  it's  a  service  to  you.  It  would 
make  me  powerful  glad  to  do  anything  for  a  comrade  or  his 


Kate  smiled  at  the  astute  mingling  of  sly  fun  and  ques- 
tioning implied  in  the  gently  rising  inflection  in  this  query. 

"Yes,"  she  said,  "you  will  be  relieving  the  anxious  heart 
of  a  sister  if  you  find  what  I  am  seeking." 

"  Nuff  said,  miss.  Just  as  soon  as  I  get  my  relief  I'm  off 
like  a  shot.  Where  shall  you  be  ? " 

"  Ah,  yes ;  you  can  come  to  me  at  the  Alburn  House. 
Here  is  my  card,  and  you  will  doubtless  be  at  some  expense. 
Here  is  money  to  pay — spare  no  expense." 

The  big  eyes  opened  in  wonder  as  Kate  handed  him  three 
new  ten-dollar  greenbacks,  just  then  something  of  a  novelty 
to  soldiers  especially,  who  got  their  pay  infrequently.  It 
was  a  bold  stroke  to  intrust  her  name  to  this  unconscious 
agent  of  her  father,  for,  if  he  were  really  playing  a  part,  his 
first  act  would  be  to  reveal  her  visit  and  thus  set  her  father 
on  his  guard.  But  she  trusted  him  implicitly.  His  wide- 
open  blue  eyes,  the  artless  admiration  mingling  with  his 
bashful  diffidence,  all  were  proof  that  he  could  not  be  de- 
ceiving her.  She  took  rooms  at  the  Alburn  House,  which 
was  not  the  chief  hotel,  as  being  better  adapted  for  her  pur- 
pose of  seclusion.  At  the  big  hotel  she  was  known,  and  if 


A  GAME  OF  CHANCE.  363 

her  father  were  in  town  she  would  be  under  his  espionage 
without  the  solace  of  writing  him.  Late  in  the  evening  her 
agent  came  in  radiant.  He  had  found  the  man. 

"Easy  as  rolling  off  a  log."  The  hackman  had  taken 
him  to  the  house  where  Jones  was  lying.  It  was  on  the 
outskirts  of  the  city  toward  Acredale.  He  described  the 
house.  Kate  knew  it  very  well.  It  was  the  property  of  her 
father. 

"  Did  you  see  the  patient  ? " 

"  No,  indeed.  You  didn't  tell  me  to,  and  I  had  nothing  to 
see  him  for.  Ef  you  had  told  me  that  you  wanted  I  should 
see  him,  I'd  have  seen  him  as  easy  as  greased  lightning." 

"  Thank  you.  I  am  relieved  of  a  great  burden  through 
your  kindness.  You  must  permit  me  to  give  you  something 
to  show  my  gratitude.  Here,  use  this  money  for  some  one 
who  needs  it,  if  you  do  not  need  it  yourself." 

"  But  I  don't  need  it.  Here  is  what  you  gave  me  this 
morning,  'cept  a  half-dollar  I  spent  in  treating  John.  I 
couldn't  think  of  taking  so  much  money.  I'ts  more'n  Uncle 
Sam  allows  me  for  five  months'  pay." 

"  No,  I  shall  feel  distressed  if  you  do  not  accept  it.  You 
can  find  use  for  it.  It  will  bring  you  luck,  for  it  is  the  re- 
ward of  a  very  important  sei'vice.  Perhaps  some  time  we 
may  meet  again,  and  then  you  shall  know  how  important." 

The  tow  hair  stood  up  in  wild  dismay,  and  the  blue  eyes 
were  perfect  saucepans,  as  Kate  gently  forced  the  money 
into  the  big  palm. 

"  Wall,  I  vum,  miss,  I  feel  like  I  was  a-robbing  you,  but 
ef  yeou  deu  want  I  should  take  it,  why  I  will,  and  send  it  to 
my  old  mother,  who  will  find  plenty  o'  use  for  it.  Good-by, 
miss.  Ef  you  should  want  me  again.  I'm  at  the  hospital. 
I  shall  be  mitey  tickled  to  do  anything  for  yeou  or  your 
brother." 


361  THE   IRON    GAME. 

CHAPTER   XXXI. 

TWO  BLADES  OF  THE  SAME  STEEL. 

IT  was  too  late  to  follow  up  the  discovery  that  night. 
Kate,  after  a  feverish  rest,  set  out  early  in  the  morning. 
She  went  first  to  Acredale,  where  she  could  get  her  own 
equipage  and  driver.  The  tenants  of  the  house  did  not 
know  her.  She  rang  boldly  at  the  door,  and  when  a  maid 
answered,  quite  taken  aback  by  the  girlish  figure  in  deep 
black,  Kate  asked,  confidently : 

"  I  want  to  see  the  sick  man,  Mr.  Jones." 

"Yes'm.  Come  right  in.  This  way,  please,  ma'am." 
The  girl  led  the  way  up  a  flight  of  stairs,  but  if  she  had 
been  part  of  the  balustrade  Kate  could  not  have  been  more 
immovable.  Whom  was  she  about  to  see  ?  Jack,  wan,  ema- 
ciated, on  the  verge  of  the  grave  ?  They  had  said  in  Wash- 
ington that  the  journey  would  kill  him ;  was  it  to  that  end 
her  relentless  father  had  persisted  in  the  removal  ?  Was 
she  about  to  see  the  dying  brought  to  death's  door  by  her 
own  flesh  and  blood  ?  She  reeled  against  the  stair-post  and 
brought  her  veil  over  her  face.  The  girl  had  turned  above 
and  was  waiting  in  wonder.  With  a  desperate  gathering 
together  of  her  relaxed  forces,  she  mounted  the  stairway. 
In  the  corridor  the  girl  turned  to  a  closed  doorway  and 
knocked  lightly.  There  was  no  sound  within ;  but  the  door 
swung  open,  and  Elisha  Boone  stood  on  the  threshold.  He 
did  not  in  the  dim  light  observe  the  figure  in  black,  but, 
looking  at  the  maid,  said,  softly: 

"What's  wanted,  Sarah  ?" 

"  A  young  lady  to  see  Mr.  Jones,  sir,"  and,  stepping  slight- 
ly aside  for  Kate  to  enter,  the  father  recognized  the  visitor. 

"  You  here,  Kate  ?    What  does  this  mean  ? " 

With  a  great  throb  of  joy  she  flung  herself  into  his  arms ; 
too  happy,  too  relieved  to  take  into  consideration  the  defeat 
of  her  purpose  involved  in  the  meeting.  For  an  instant  she 
lost  all  thought  of  anything  but  that  her  estranged  parent 
was  in  her  arms,  that  she  would  not  let  him  quit  her  sight 


TWO   BLADES   OF   THE   SAME   STEEL.  365 

again,  that  her  pleading  would  keep  him  from  any  act  that 
could  cause  her  or  any  one  else  unhappiness. 

"Ah,  father,  I'm  so  relieved,  so  glad!  I  was  miserable, 
and  did  not  know  where  you  were.  I— I  will  not  let  you 
leave  me  again." 

"  But  my  child,  you  must  not  be  here ;  this  is  a  house  of 
sickness;  there  is  dangerous  illness  here." 

"  It's  no  more  dangerous  for  me  than  for  you.  I  know 
who  is  here."  She  looked  archly  at  him,  as  he  started  in 
surprise.  "I  will  help  nurse  Mr.  Jones."  She  said  this 
with  immense  knovviiigness  in  her  manner  as  she  squeezed 
the  astonished  man  to  her  heart.  The  maid  meanwhile  had 
retreated  to  a  safe  distance,  where  she  lurked  in  covert  to 
make  report  of  the  extraordinary  goings  on. 

"  Impossible,  Kate  ;  you  must  not  be  here.  I  will  not 
have  it ;  you  must  go. "  His  voice  grew  stern.  "  You  must 
go,  I  say,  Kate ;  you  must  go  down-stairs  this  instant." 

"Come,  Bodne,  I  say,  this  isn't  fair;  let  the  lady  come  in 
if  she  wants  to  see  valor  laid  low."  Boone,  who  had  been 
insensibly  moving  Kate  from  the  open  doorway,  caught  her 
eye  fixed  on  the  room,  and  looking  over  his  shoulder  at 
these  jocular  words  he  saw  Jones  leaning  against  the  post,  a 
wan  smile  on  his  face.  Boone  turned,  almost  flinging  Kate 
from  him,  and,  fairly  lifting  the  invalid,  carried  him  back 
into  the  room. 

"This  is  madness;  you  are  in  no  condition  to  rise.  I 
won't  be  responsible  for  your  life  if  you  persist  in  this 
course." 

"  So  much  trouble  off  your  hands,  old  man.  I'll  be  more 
use  to  you  dead  than  living.  Better  let  me  blow  my  own 
flame  out.  It  won't  burn  long  at  best  or  worst." 

In  the  overwhelming  revulsion  of  feeling  brought  about 
by  the  actual  sight  of  Jones,  Kate  stood,  interdicted,  in  the 
corridor,  uncertain  what  to  do.  She  heard  the  man's  words 
and  shuddered  at  the  bantering  levity  with  which  he  spoke 
of  his  own  death.  Who  could  it  be  ?  It  was  not  Jack,  as 
she  had  feared  and  hoped.  But  he  must  know  something  of 
Jack.  She  must  speak  with  him.  How  ?  It  would  not  do 


366  T*IE  IRON  GAME- 

to  irritate  her  father.  She  caught  Boone's  almost  whispered 
words : 

"  I  tell  you,  Jones,  you  shall  be  brought  about,  but  you 
know  the  danger  of  seeing  any  Acredale  people.  My  daugh- 
ter knows  you— knows  the  Perleys.  I  should  think  that 
would  be  reason  enough  why  you  should  not  be  seen  by 
her." 

"  Oh,  I  don't  mind ;  the  sight  of  a  pretty  girl  is  the  best 
medicine  I  know  of.  I'd  risk  all  Acredale  for  that." 

Kate  turned  softly  and  waited  at  the  foot  of  the  stairs  for 
her  father.  He  came  presently,  looking  worried  and  em- 
barrassed. 

"  Now  don't  go  to  imagining  mysteries  here.  This  is  a 
man  who  has  been  011  my  hands  a  good  many  years.  He 
is  an  irreclaimable  spendthrift.  He  was  in  other  days  a 
man  of  repute  and  station.  I  am  interested  in  him,  through 
old  ties,  since  the  days  we  were  boys." 

"The  carriage  is  here,  papa;  won't  you  come  home  with 
me?" 

"Yes;  you  get  into  the  carriage." 

He  reappeared  presently,  the  face  of  a  strange  woman, 
that  Kate  had  not  seen,  peering  over  his  shoulder  into  the 
carriage  as  he  came  down  the  steps.  Kate  instantly  divined 
that  he  had  been  warning  the  landlady  against  admitting 
strangers  to  the  sick  man's  room.  During  the  drive  home 
Kate  strove  to  reassert  her  old  dominion  over  the  moody 
figure  at  her  side.  It  was  useless.  As  the  carriage  stopped 
at  the  door  he  turned  toward  her  and  said,  not  unkindly : 

"  Daughter,  there  are  some  things  I  know  better  how  to 
manage  than  you  do.  You  have  been  spying  on  your  father. 
This  is  another  count  in  the  long  score  of  grudges  I  owe  the 
Sprague  tribe  and  their  scoundrel  son.  Understand  me  clear- 
ly, my  child;  you  must  not  speak  of  this  matter  again.  The 
whole  business  will  soon  be  at  an  end ;  that  end  is  in  my 
hands,  and  no  power  this  side  the  grave  can  alter  a  fact  in 
the  outcome.  You  are  very  dear  to  me ;  you  are  all  I  have 
loft  in  the  world ;  you  must  trust  me,  and  you  must  believe 
that  I  am  doing  everything  for  the  best.  Try  to  think  that 


TWO  BLADES   OF  THE  SAME  STEEL.  367 

the  world  is  not  coming  to  an  end  because  I  insist  on  hav- 
ing my  own  way' for  once." 

Nothing  but  the  sense  of  having  giving  hostages  to  good 
behavior  rather  than  honor  upheld  Kate  in  the  line  she  had 
marked  out  for  herself.  She  was  not,  in  the  modern  sense 
of  the  word,  a  strong-minded  young  woman,  this  sorely  be- 
set champion  of  the  overborne.  She  hadn't  even  the  per- 
versity of  the  sex  in  love.  Chivalrously  as  she  loved  the 
lost  soldier,  she  loved  her  father  with  that  old-fashioned 
veneration  which  made  her  see  all  that  he  did  with  the 
moral  indistinctness,  without  which  there  could  not  be  the 
perfect  filial  devotion  that  makes  the  family  a  union  in  good 
report  and  evil.  She  had  not  even  that,  by  no  means  repel- 
lent, secondary  egoism  which  upholds  us  in  doing  ungrate- 
ful things  that  abstract  good  may  follow.  Opposition,  which 
becomes  delightful  when  we  can  call  it  persecution,  had  no 
charm  for  her.  If  her  father  had  suddenly  adopted  the 
r67e  of  the  stern  parent  in  novels  and  ordered  her  to  her 
chamber,  Kate  would  have  regarded  it  as  a  joke,  and  felt 
rather  relieved  that  she  could  thus  escape  the  pledge  given 
to  the  Spragues.  But,  as  it  was,  she  felt  morally  bound  by 
her  promise  to  Olympia ;  and,  though  she  realized  dimly  that 
her  instrumentality  was  slowly  involving  her  father  in  a 
coil  of  unloveliness,  she  resolutely  braced  herself  for  the 
worst,  In  spite  of  herself  she  had  believed  in  conquering 
her  father's  severity  and  changing  his  mind.  She  had  res- 
cued him  from  revenges  quite  as  dear  to  him  as  this,  at  least 
so  far  as  she  understood  it,  forgetting  that  her  father  be- 
lieved himself  to  be  pursuing  the  deliberate  murderer  of  his 
son.  When  we  have  achieved  a  victory  over  our  own  less 
noble  impulses  and  put  the  sophistries  that  misled  us  behind 
us,  it  is  impossible  to  realize  that  others  have  not  the  same 
vision,  the  same  mind  as  our  own.  Kate  had  accused  Jack 
of  cold-blooded  murder.  She  had  reasoned  herself  out  of 
that  hateful  spirit,  and,  forgetting  that  her  father  had  not 
the  vital  force  of  love  to  act  as  a  fulcrum,  she  could  not 
quite  comprehend  how  difficult  it  was  to  shift  the  wrathful 
burden  in  his  mind.  She  had  gone  too  far  to  recede  now 
24 


368  THE   IRON   GAME. 

with  honor.  Olympia  had  trusted  her,  had  indeed  given 
over  into  her  hands  the  active  work  of  finding  the  strangely 
lost  clew  of  Jack's  whereabouts.  Perhaps  for  her  father's 
sake  it  was  better  that  she  should  be  the  instrument.  She 
might  be  able  to  dissemble  his  intervention,  shield  him  from 
obloquy — if,  as  she  feared,  he  was  responsible  for  anything 
doubtful. 

She  knew  her  father  too  well  to  suppose  that  he  would 
flinch  from  any  measure  he  had  proposed  to  himself.  She 
knew  that  she  need  not  count  any  further  upon  her  accus- 
tomed powers  of  persuasion.  His  own  words  were  final  on 
that  score.  If  she  could  only  learn  his  intentions !  If  she 
could  be  sure  that  he  was  ulteriorly  shaping  events  against 
Jack — was  acquainted  with  his  whereabouts — she  would 
have  known  exactly  what  to  do.  But,  pilloried  in  doubt, 
shackled  by  the  dread  of  exposing  him  in  some  hateful 
malevolence  which  would  forever  disgrace  him  in  the  com- 
munity, she  hardly  dared  stir,  though  she  felt  that  every 
hour's  delay  was  a  new  peril  to  Jack  in  some  way.  The 
more  she  thought  of  the  scene  of  the  morning,  the  surer  she 
felt  that  Jones — or  Mr.  Dick,  as  her  father  sometimes  called 
him — was  in  some  way  an  instrument  in  the  paternal  scheme. 
If  she  could  but  see  Jones  ten  minutes !  Her  father,  she  well 
knew,  had  guarded  against  that.  Whom  could  she  send  in 
her  place  ?  Ah !  there  was  the  double  check.  She  couldn't 
expose  her  father  to  a  stranger;  yet  if  her  apprehensions 
were  grounded  on  anything  more  substantial  than  fear, 
strangers  must  in  time  know  all.  Could  Merry  be  made 
use  of  ?  No — that  would  not  do.  The  libertine  tone  of  the 
invalid,  his  impudent  allusion  to  herself,  convinced  Kate 
that  a  man  must  be  her  agent,  if  any  one  were  to  be.  But 
what  man  did  she  know  ?  If  she  sent  any  of  the  servants, 
her  father  would  recognize  them,  and  the  attempt  fail.  She 
had  trusted  Elkins.  He  seemed  an  honest,  incurious  lad, 
just  the  one  to  be  trusted  in  the  business.  She  could  in- 
vent a  fable  which  would  satisfy  his  ready  credulity  without 
compromising  her  father.  It  was  plain  that  he  was  the  only 
resource.  She  dressed  at  once  and  returned  to  the  Alburn. 


TWO   BLADES  OF   THE   SAME   STEEL.  369 

Thence  she  dispatched  a  note  to  Elkins,  begging  him  to  call 
at  his  earliest  leisure.  While  waiting  his  return,  she  wrote 
a  letter  to  be  handed  to  Jones.  This  was  a  work  of  no  little 
ingenuity,  forced  as  she  was  to  avoid  all  allusion  to  her  father 
and  the  scene  of  the  morning.  When  completed,  this  stroke 
of  the  conspiracy  ran : 

"  DEAR  SIR:  A  mother  and  sister  who  have  exhausted  all 
official  sources  in  vain  to  get  trace  of  a  lost  son  and  brother, 
John  Sprague  of  the  Caribees,  have  reason  to  believe  that 
you  can  give  them  a  clew  to  his  whereabouts.  Will  you 
therefore  kindly  confide  in  the  bearer  of  this  letter,  giving 
him  by  word  of  mouth  such  facts  as  will  enable  John 
Sprague's  relatives  to  work  intelligently  in  the  search  for 
him,  living  or  dead  ? 

"  Very  truly  yours, 

KATHERINE  BOONE." 

It  was  hardly  written  when  Elkins  himself  appeared, 
radiant  with  satisfaction  and  blushing  like  a  peony  under 
lamplight. 

"  Yeour  note  came  just  in  th'  nick  o'  time.  I  have  leave 
of  absence  for  twenty-four  hours,  and  was  just  goin'  inter 
teown." 

"  If  you  can  spare  me  the  day,  I  have  a  very  important 
matter  I  think  you  can  attend  to  for  me.  I  want  you  to  go 
to  the  sick  man  Jones.  You  must  see  before  entering  wheth- 
er he  is  alone  or  not.  I  don't  know  how  you  can  find  out, 
but  you  can  invent  some  way.  If  you  see  the  man  who 
brought  him  from  Washington,  you  are  not  to  enter.  But 
if  you  find  that  he  is  not  in  the  house,  ask  boldly  for  Jones, 
and  when  you  reach  him  hand  him  this  note.  He  will  give 
you  an  answer,  and  you  must  be  careful  not  to  lose  a  word, 
for  life  depends  on  the  accuracy  of  your  report.  I  fancy 
that  your  regimentals  and  hospital  badge  can  gain  you  ad- 
mission, if,  as  I  have  reason  to  believe,  there  are  orders  to 
refuse  strangers  admission.  I  depend  on  you  to  overcome 
any  difficulty  you  may  meet.  If  you  knew  how  much  de- 


370  THE   IRON   GAME. 

pends  upon  it,  I'm  sure  you  would  not  be  baffled  by  any- 
thing less  than  force." 

The  big  blue  eyes  were  fairly  bulging,  like  two  monster 
morning-glories,  as  Elkins,  putting  the  note  carefully  in  his 
jacket  pocket,  said,  softly: 

"  Ef  I  don't  get  thet  'ere  letter  into  Jones's  hands,  you 
may  have  me  drummed  out  o'  camp  by  the  mule-drivers." 

"  I  believe  you,  and  trust  you.  I  shall  be  here  to-morrow 
morning  early,  and  shall  hope  to  hear  something  from  you. 
Good-by." 

"Good-by,  miss.  Just  you  make  up  your  mind  I  am 
goin'  to  do  what  you  command." 

When  she  reached  home  she  found  her  father  in  the 
library.  He  looked  at  her  inquiringly  as  she  came  over  and 
kissed  him. 

"  I  have  been  in  town  all  day,  and  am  run  out." 

"  Still  plotting  ?  " 

"Yes,  still  plotting." 

"You're  wasting  your  time,  my  dear.  You'll  know  all 
you  care  to  soon  enough,  if  you'll  just  keep  quiet." 

"  Yes ;  but  I  can't.  I  want  to  know  all  you  know,  and  I 
want  to  know  it  now." 

"All  I  know  wouldn't  be  much,  according  to  the 
Spragues,  who  gave  me  my  status  in  this  town,  long  ago,  as 
an  ignoramus." 

"  Perhaps  you  were  then,  papa." 

"  Yes ;  I  hadn't  been  schooled  fifteen  years  by  my  accom- 
plished daughter." 

"A  lie  is  truth  to  those  who  only  tell  the  truth." 

"  What  does  that  mean  ? " 

"It's  simple  enough  —  a  home-made  epigram.  People 
who  tell  nothing  but  the  truth  are  easiest  made  to  believe 
a  lie.  The  Spragues  had  heard  of  you  as  ignorant,  and  be- 
lieved it.  You  can't  blame  them  for  that." 

"  I  don't  blame  them  because  it  was  a  lie.  I  blame  them 
because  it  was  the  truth.  I  don't  care  a  straw  how  many 
lies  are  told  about  me  —  it's  the  ill-natured  truth  I  ob- 
ject to." 


TWO   BLADES   OF   THE   SAME   STEEL.  371 

"  I'm  afraid  that  you  will  have  a  hard  time  in  life  if  you 
like  lies  better  than  the  truth." 

"I  didn't  say  that." 

"  Then  I  don't  understand  English." 

"  You  don't  understand  me." 

"Ah,  yes  I  do,  papa.  I  do  understand  you.  I  know 
that  at  this  moment  you  are  doing  something  that  you  are 
ashamed  of — something  that  later  you  will  bitterly  repent. 
You  are  carrying  on  now  through  pride  what  you  began  in 
wrath.  Stop  where  you  are.  The  dead  can  not  be  avenged. 
That's  a  barbarous  code.  Remember,  in  all  the  petty  irrita- 
tions of  the  past,  when  you  have  been  hurt  by  your  neigh- 
bors, you  were  never  so  triumphant  as  when  you  surprised 
those  who  injured  you  by  a  magnanimous  return — " 

"  There,  I  made  an  agreement  with  you  that  we  should 
not  speak  of  these  things.  I  mean  it.  I  find  that  you  take 
advantage  of  me.  I  shall  be  banished  from  the  house  if  you 
do  not  keep  to  your  bargain." 

Kate  sighed.  She  had  hoped  that  the  early  banter  was 
paving  the  way  for  a  reconciliation.  She  took  up  some 
work  and  tried  to  busy  her  hands. 

"  Suppose  you  read  me  something  ?  You  haven't  read  in 
an  age." 

"  What  shall  it  be  ? " 

"Oh,  something  from  Dickens — anything  you  like." 

"Very  well,  I  shall  show  you  a  counterfeit  presentment 
of  yourself,"  and,  with  an  arch-smile,  she  began  to  read  from 
The  Chimes. 

He  listened  soberly  until  the  last  page  wras  turned,  and 
then,  rising,  said  abstractedly: 

"  I  sha'n't  see  you  for  a  few  days.  I  wish  you  would  re- 
main at  home  as  much  as  possible.  Get  some  of  the  neigh- 
bors' girls  to  keep  you  company,  if  you're  lonesome." 

"  Oh,  I  shall  not  be  lonesome.  I  shall  have  too  much  to 
do — too  much  to  think  about." 

He  laughed.  "You  are  enough  like  your  father,  my 
girl,  to  pass  for  him.  Very  well,  you'll  be  penitent  enough 
when  I  come  back." 


372  THE   IRON   GAME. 

He  was  gone  in  the  morning,  as  he  had  said,  and  she  was 
free  to  keep  her  appointment  with  Elkins.  He  was  waiting 
for  her  when  she  reached  the  hotel. 

"  Well  ? "  she  cried,  breathlessly. 

"  I  saw  him." 

She  seized  the  blushing  lad's  two  hands.  "Ah,  you 
splendid  fellow !  And  then  ? — " 

"  He  wrote  this  note  for  you,"  and  he  handed  her  an  en- 
velope with  her  own  name  written  on  it  in  an  uneven,  un- 
certain scrawl.  She  tore  it  open  and  read : 

"  DEAR  MADAM  :  I  can  not  understand  why  there  should 
be  any  difficulty  in  finding  what  became  of  Sprague  and  his 
party.  We  all  reached  the  lines  together,  but,  as  I  was  hit 
by  a  bullet  in  the  head  at  the  moment  of  rescue,  I  knew 
nothing  of  their  movements  after  reaching  the  Union  lines. 
I,  too,  am  interested  in  the  young  man.  I  should  like  to  see 
you  or  some  of  his  friends  at  once,  as  I  suspect  foul  play  of 
some  sort.  Obediently  yours,  JONES." 

"  Did  you  get  to  him  without  trouble  ? "  Kate  asked, 
keenly,  disappointed  by  the  result  of  all  this  strategy. 

''I  made  them  believe  I  was  on  hospital  business.  I 
showed  them  a  large  official  envelope,  and  they  let  me  go 
up.  Jones  told  me  to  tell  you  that  he  would  see  you  there 
in  the  parlor  if  you  would  come  ;  that  he  is  unable  to  leave 
the  house,  or  he  would  come  to  see  you." 

"  Can  you  take  me  there  now  ? " 

"  I  have  four  hours  of  my  leave  still.  It  does  not  expire 
until  two  o'clock." 

"  Then  we  will  go  at  once.     Will  you  call  a  carriage  ? " 

While  he  was  gone,  Kate  read  the  note  again.  She  was 
more  puzzled  than  ever.  The  man  wrote  as  if  he  had  no 
idea  that  Jack  was  not  easily  traceable,  yet  all  the  Spragues' 
money  and  influence  had  been  spent  in  vain.  He  expected 
her.  Where  could  her  father  be  ?  He  wrote  as  though  he 
had  no  idea  that  he  had  been  virtually  a  prisoner.  When 
she  reached  the  house,  the  servant  made  no  difficulty  in 


TWO   BLADES   OF   THE   SAME   STEEL.  373 

admitting  her.  Elkins  remained  outside  in  the  vehicle, 
with  an  admonition  from  Kate  to  remain  unseen  unless 
she  called  him.  Jones,  the  shadow  of  the  burly  soldier  we 
saw  in  the  famous  escape,  was  seated  in  a  deep,  reclining 
chair,  and,  as  Kate  entered,  rose  feebly. 

"  Pray,  don't  rise,  don't  disturb  yourself  in  the  least.  I 
will  sit  here  near  you,  and  we  can  talk,  if  it  won't  make  you 
ill." 

"  No.  It  isn't  talking  that  troubles  me— but  never  mind 
that,  Your  note  has  pulled  me  down  a  good  deal.  I  was 
given  to  understand  that  the  boys  were  home  and  all  right." 

"  The  boys  ?  " 

"  Jack  and  young  Per  ley." 

"  Who  gave  you — who  told  you  that  ? " 

"  Your  father.  He  is  the  only  person  I  have  talked  with 
since  I  got  my  wits  back." 

Kate  drew  back  with  a  shuddering  horror. 

''  Are  you  quite  sure,  Mr.— Mr.  Jones  that  my  father  told 
you  that  ? " 

"Perfectly  certain.  Do  you  suppose  that  I  would  not 
have  taken  measures  to  find  out  where  my  own — I  mean 
where  friends  were  ?  These  boys  saved  me  from  prison 
once  and  from  a  death  nearly  as  dreadful  as  Libby.  Could 
I  be  indifferent  to  them  ? " 

"But  why  should  papa*  tell  you  they  were  safe,  when — 
when  our  hearts  have  been  tortured  ?  Ah !  I  see.  He  wanted 
to  spare  you  the  anxiety.  Ah !  yes.  He  knew  that  you  would 
fret  and  worry,  and  that  you  could  not  recover  under  the 
strain."  Kate's  heart  swelled  with  a  triumphant  revulsion. 
She  had  vilely  suspected  without  cause.  She  must  now  do 
justice.  Jones  eyed  her  pensively,  holding  his  head  with 
both  his  hands. 

"  Nothing  has  been  heard  of  the  boys  since  when  ? " 

"Nothing  directly  since  the  escape  from  Richmond.  Miss 
Sprague  brought  that  news,  and  about  the  same  time  a  para- 
graph in  the  Herald  announced  that  prisoners  from  Rich- 
mond had  reached  the  Union  lines  on  the  Warrick." 

"  When  was  that  ? " 


374:  THE   IRON   GAME. 

"  Late  in  November." 

"  Yes,  I  was  one  of  them.  I  escaped  from  Richmond. 
Jack  and  young  Perley  got  me  out  of  the  tobacco  warehouse. 
We  reached  the  Warrick  after  a  hard  week  of  marching  and 
hiding,  and  the  boys  were  alive  and  well  when  we  reached  the 
Union  outpost.  I  was  last  to  cross  the  bridge,  and  as  I  plunged 
into  the  thick  bushes  a  bullet  struck  me.  I  knew  no  more 
until  I  found  myself  here.  I  had  agents  at  Fort  Monroe 
waiting  for  me.  They  probably  forwarded  me  at  once.  But 
I  don't  understand  how  there  can  be  any  difficulty  in  trac- 
ing the  two  boys.  Haven't  they  written  ? " 

"  Not  a  line,  not  a  word  concerning  them  has  been  heard. 
Mrs.  Sprague  sent  agents  so  soon  as  the  Herald  paragraph 
was  shown  to  Olympia.  They  are  in  Washington  now  on 
the  quest.  It  was  there  we  got  track  of  you — before  you 
were  sent  here." 

"  Why  was  I  sent  here  ? " 

Kate  was  about  to  speak.  Again  the  shadow  of  her  first 
fear— again  the  dread  of  some  malevolent  purpose  on  her 
father's  part — choked  her  speech. 

"  I — I — don't  know,"  she  faltered. 

"  Who  came  with  me  ? " 

"  My  father." 

'•  Ah !  "  Jones's  eyes  were  penetrating  her  now.  She  felt 
tha  questioning  in  them,  and  turned  her  face  to  the  clinging 
folds  of  the  veil. 

"  Miss  Boone,  you  seem  to  be  deeply  interested  in  these 
boys.  Are  you  really  their  friend  ?" 

"  Ah,  believe  me,  I  am  heart  and  soul  their  friend !  " 

"  Does  your  father  know  it  ?  " 

"  Yes;  he  knows  that  I  am  seeking  them." 

"  Does  he  approve  your  search  ? " 

"No,  he  does  not." 

"Good.  Now  listen.  We  have  short  time  to  work  in. 
You  have  a  carriage  outside.  Your  father  will  be  here  any 
moment.  I  could  never  keep  from  him  my  indignation  and 
even  distrust.  I  shall  get  into  that  carriage  with  you,  and 
you  must  conceal  me  somewhere  and  give  me  time  to  set  the 


TWO   BLADES   OF   THE   SAME   STEEL.  375 

proper  machinery  in  motion  to  find  these  boys.  There  is  no 
other  way.  Your  father  has  some  reason  for  keeping  their 
whereabouts  eoncealed.  I  may  know  the  purpose  and  I  may 
not.  The  boys  may  have  been  killed  in  the  volley  that 
struck  me.  It  will  require  a  mere  telegram  to  find  out.  I 
know  whom  to  address,  but  I  must  be  where  I  can  use' 
trusted  agents.  I  have  no  money.  You  can,  I  hope,  pro- 
vide me  with  that,  or  the  Spragues  if  you  can't." 

He  spoke  with  a  flush  deepening  on  his  face,  and  arose 
with  something  like  vigor. 

'•Ample  means— you  shall  have  any  sum  you  need," 
Kate  said,  handing  him  a  well-filled  purse. 

"  Good— I  have  one  or  two  articles  in  my  room.  I  will 
fetch  them  and  follow  you  to  the  carriage." 

Ten  minutes  later  the  carriage  was  whirling  over  the 
broad  road  to  Warchester.  By  Jones's  advice  it  was  stopped 
at  the  hospital.  Here  he  proposed  remaining  for  the  night, 
to  mislead  suspicion  if  any  one  had  taken  the  precaution  to 
follow. 

"  I  will  remain  with  our  friend  Elkins  to-night,  as  you 
suggest,"  Jones  said;  "to-morrow  I  will  send  you  word  of 
my  whereabouts,  and  you  may  expect  to  have  news  of  the 
boys  within  the  week. " 

"  My  address  will  be  in  Washington,"  Kate  said.  "  I 
shall  go  at  once  to  the  Spragues.  They  have  been  there,  as 
I  told  you,  to  seek  every  possible  source  of  information.  I 
left  them  to  follow  you,  hoping  that  through  you  I  should 
find  the  missing." 

"You  made  no  mistake.  I  shall  find  them.  You  can 
tell  your  friends  that,"  and  he  added,  with  a  gleam  of  savage 
malice,  "  God  help  the  man  that  has  raised  the  weight  of  a 
feather  against  them,  for  he  has  put  a  heavy  hurt  on  me  if 
he  has  harmed  them  !  " 

Kate  shuddered.  Was  she  never  to  emerge  from  this 
hideous  circle  of  vengeful  hatred— this  condition  of  passion- 
ate vendetta — where  men  were  seeking  each  other's  harm  ? 
On  reaching  home  she  addressed  a  note  to  her  father  ex  • 
plaining  frankly  that  she  had  entered  into  communication 


376  THE   IRON   GAME. 

with  Jones;  that  she  had  been  pained  by  all  that  she  had 
heard;  that  the  inquiry  had  now  passed  out  of  her  hands 
and  was  in  that  of  the  authorities,  and  begging  him  to  drop 
any  participation  he  might  have  meditated.  In  a  late  letter 
Olympia  had  given  good  news  of  her  mother,  saying  that 
Kate  could  return  with  safety,  and,  informing  her  father  of 
this,  Kate  bade  him  good-by  for  a  time. 

When  Kate  reached  Washington  she  found  Mrs.  Sprague 
convalescent,  but  painfully  feeble.  The  poor  mother  re- 
proached herself  for  the  interruption  of  the  search,  and  im- 
plored the  two  girls  to  begin  again  without  a  moment's  de- 
lay. Kate  gave  her  as  much  hope  as  she  dared.  She  hinted 
something  of  the  outlines  of  what  she  had  done  and  the  new 
agent  in  the  field.  With  this  Mrs.  Sprague  was  greatly 
comforted,  but  begged  them  to  remit  no  efforts  of  their  own. 
It  was  after  three  days'  fruitless  searching  among  the  records 
of  the  department  and  among  the  men  of  the  Caribee  regi- 
ment, now  returned  to  Washington  en  route  to  the  front,  that 
Kate  bethought  herself  of  her  father's  probable  presence  in 
the  city.  She  got  out  of  the  carriage  and  entered  the  long 
reception-room  of  Willard's  to  make  inquiry.  The  boy  who 
came  at  her  call  said,  as  soon  as  she  asked  for  Mr.  Boone  : 

'"  Why,  I  just  saw  him  at  the  desk,  paying  his  bill.  He 
is  probably  there  still.  Wait  here  until  I  see." 

But  Kate,  fearing  that  he  might  be  gone  before  she  could 
reach  him,  followed  the  boy.  There  was  no  sign  of  her 
father  at  the  desk,  and,  turning  hastily  out  of  the  main  cor- 
ridor, filled  with  officers  and  the  clank  of  swords  almost 
stunning  her,  she  reached  the  porch  just  as  a  cab  set  out  to- 
ward the  station.  She  caught  aglimpse  of  her  father's  face 
in  it.  He  was  leaving  the  city.  She  must  see  him.  The 
inspiration  of  the  instant  suggested  by  a  cabman  was  fol- 
io wod.  She  hastily  entered  the  vehicle  and  bade  the  driver 
keep  in  sight  of  the  one  her  father  was  in  until  it  came  to  a 
stop.  The  driver  whipped  up  his  horses,  but  there  wasn't 
much  sp'eed  in  them.  Kate  dared  not  look  out  of  the  win- 
dow, and  sat  in  feverish  anxiety  while  she  was  whirled  along 
Pennsylvania  Avenue,  almost  to  the  Baltimore  Station,  then 


TWO   BLADES  OF  TEE   SAME   STEEL.  3f7 

the  only  one  in  the  city  connecting1  with  the  North.  To  her 
surprise,  the  driver  stopped  near  the  curb  a  block  or  more 
short  of  the  railway.  She  looked  out,  arid  as  she  did  so  the 
driver  pointed  to  her  father's  carriage  halted  just  ahead. 
She  took  out  her  purse,  but  was  delayed  a  moment  in  get- 
ting the  fare,  keeping  her  eye,  however,  on  her  father  as  he 
hurried  from  the  cab  to  a  building  before  which  a  sentry 
was  lazily  pacing.  She  was  not  two  minutes  in  reaching 
the  doorway,  but  he  had  disappeared. 

The  soldier  asked  her  no  questions,  and  of  course  she 
could  ask- none,  as  probably  her  father  was  unknown  to  the 
military  filling  the  place.  She  must  follow  on  until  she 
overtook  him.  There  were  clerks  busy  at  long  desks,  mili- 
tary officials  moving  about  with  files  of  documents.  The 
presence  of  a  few  women  in  widow's  weeds  reassured  Kate, 
and  as  no  one  molested  her  she  persisted  in  her  design.  He 
was  not  on  the  lower  floor,  and,  coming  back,  she  ascended 
a  broad  stairway.  The  hall  was  wide,  and  filled  with  people 
all  in  uniform.  She  could  hear  a  monotonous  voice  reading 
in  front,  where  the  crowd  clustered  thickest.  She  looked 
about  helplessly,  and  tried  to  push  forward.  Suddenly  she 
heard  the  words  :  "  Guilty  of  taking  the  life  of  the  same 
Wesley  Boone.  Specification  third  :  And  that  the  said 
John  Sprague  is  guilty  of  the  crime  of  spying  inside  the 
lines  of  the  armies  of  the  United  States."  For  a  moment 
Kate  stood  stupefied — rooted  to  the  floor.  Jack  was  un- 
dergoing an  ignominious  trial  for  murder— for  desertion ! 
All  fear,  all  timidity,  all  sense  of  the  unfitness  of  femi- 
nine evidence  in  such  a  place  fled  from  her.  She  pushed 
her  way  through  the  astonished  throng  which  fell  aside  as 
they  saw  her  black  dress  and  flowing  drapery.  She  reached 
the  last  range  of  benches,  where  men  were  seated,  some 
writing,  some  consulting  documents,  while  the  clerk  read 
the  charges.  Her  eye  fell  upon  her  father  seated  near  the 
place  of  the  presiding  officer.  She  grew  confident  and  con- 
firmed by  the  sight :  it  was  a  signal  to  the  daring  that  fired 
her.  "  Stop !  "  she  said,  in  a  clear  voice.  "  I  don't  know  what 
this  place  is;  I  don't  know  what  meaning  these  proceedings 


378  THE   IRON   GAME. 

have.  I  heard  a  charge  that  is  not  true.  It  is  false  that 
John  Sprague  murdered  Wesley  Boone.  Wesley  Boone 
was  my  brother,  and  he  was  killed  in  the  dark  by  one  of 
several  shots  fired  at  the  same  instant.  Furthermore,  my 
brother  was  armed  and  in  the  sleeping-room  of  the  mistress 
of  the  house  at  the  dead  of  night.  If  John  Sprague's  bullet 
killed  him  it  was  shot  in  self-defense  and  in  the  safeguard- 
ing of  two  terrified  women.  He  had  no  more  idea  of  whom 
he  was  struggling  with  than — than  the  soldier  who  fires  in 
battle.  Furthermore,  he  is  no  spy.  He  risked  his  life  to 
rescue  prisoners.  He  saved  the  life  of  one  of  them,  who  can 
be  brought  here  to  testify.  He — " 

But  here  Kate  broke  down.  She  had  spoken  with  a  pas- 
sionate, resentful  vehemence,  her  mind  all  the  time  seething 
with  the  fear  and  shame  of  her  father's  responsibility  for 
this  hideous  attack  upon  the  absent.  She  stretched  out  her 
hand  exhaustedly  for  support.  A  young  officer  near  her 
pushed  up  a  chair  and  helped  her  into  it.  Boone  had 
turned  in  speechless  amazement  as  the  first  words  of  the 
voice  sounded  in  his  ears.  His  back  was  toward  the  door, 
and  he  had  not  seen  Kate.  He  turned  as  she  broke  into 
this  fervid  apostrophe.  Whether  from  surprise,  prudence, 
or  anger  he  sat  silent,  uninterrupting  till  she  tottered  into 
the  seat  placed  for  her  by  a  stranger.  Then  he  arose  and 
went  to  her  side,  in  nowise  angry  or  discomposed  so  far  as 
his  outward  demeanor  betrayed  him.  The  presiding  offi- 
cer of  the  court-martial  had  attempted  to  silence  Kate  by  a 
gesture,  but  with  eyes  fixed  steadily  upon  him  she  had  disre- 
garded his  command.  Now,  however,  he  spoke: 

"  Madame,  you  must  know  this  is  highly  disorderly  and 
indecorous.  The  court  can  take  no  cognizance  of  this  sort 
of  testimony.  Do  you  desire  to  be  heard  by  counsel  ?  If  you 
do,  the  judge-advocate  will  give  you  all  lawful  assistance." 

u  If  the  court  please,  this  lady  is  my  daughter.  She  is 
somewhat  excited.  I  will  take  the  necessary  measures  in 
the  matter,"  Boone  began. 

Kate  pushed  her  father  from  before  her  and  again  ad- 
dressed the  president. 


TWO   BLADES  OF  THE  SAME   STEEL.  379 

<:I  refuse  my  father's  aid  in  this  case.  I  don't  know 
what  is  necessary,  but  I  ask  this  court,  if  it  has  anything  to 
do  with  John  Sprague,  to  give  his  friends  an  opportunity  to 
present  his  story  truthfully  and  without  prejudice." 

"The  judge-advocate  will  give  you  all  necessary  infor- 
mation. Meanwhile,  the  case  will  be  adjourned  until  to- 
morrow. " 

Elisha  Boone  stood  beside  his  daughter,  a  figure  of  per- 
plexity and  chagrin.  He  dared  not  remonstrate  openly. 
He  was  forced  to  hear  the  judge-advocate  question  this 
extraordinary  witness,  and  instruct  her  on  the  steps  ne- 
cessary to  be  taken ;  worse  than  all,  hear  him  inform  Kate 
that  the  citations  to  John  Sprague  had  been  regularly  issued, 
and  that  the  evidence  of  his  desertion  rested  wholly  on  the 
fact  that  he  had  put  in  no  answer  to  the  charges  promul- 
gated against  him  by  his  commanding  officer;  that  the  trial 
was  proceeding  on  the  ground  that  Sprague  had  deserted  to 
the  enemy,  and  refused  to  answer  within  the  time  allowed 
by  law. 

"  But  he  has  never  heard  of  the  charges,"  Kate  cried,  in- 
dignantly. "He  has  not  been  heard  of  since  he  escaped 
from  Richmond." 

"As  we  understand  it,  he  reached  the  Union  lines 
merely  to  ambuscade  our  outposts,  and  then  returned  to 
Richmond." 

"  His  sister  left  Richmond  ten  days  after  his  flight,  and 
he  had  then  passed  into  our  lines,  as  she  had  the  surest 
means  of  knowing." 

"  There  is  some  extraordinary  error  in  all  this.  If 
Sprague  can  be  produced  before  the  term  fixed  by  the  regu- 
lations, he  can  vindicate  himself  by  establishing  the  facts 
you  have  told  me.  If  not,  we  have  no  alternative  but  to 
condemn  him  to  death  as  a  spy  and  deserter.  The  testimony 
on  these  specifications  is  uncontradicted.  The  murder  we 
may  not  be  able  to  establish,  though  we  have  witnesses  of 
the  shooting." 

It  was  arranged  that  Sprague'  s  counsel  should  see  the 
judge-advocate  at  once,  Kate  giving  him  the  address  in  case 


380  THE   IRON   GAME. 

by  any  accident  she  should  be  prevented  from  seeing  the 
Spragues.  As  she  left  the  room,  under  a  fusillade  of  admir- 
ing glances,  she  leaned  on  her  father's  arm,  trembling  but 
resolute.  She  now  knew  the  worst,  and  she  had  no  further 
terror.  As  they  reached  the  door,  her  father  asked : 

"  Where  are  you  going  ?  I  suppose  I  need  not  tell  you 
that  I  was  on  my  way  home  when  I  came  here,  for  I  sup- 
pose you  have  been  spying  on  my  movements." 

"  Never.  I  feared  you  were  acting  unwisely,  but  I  never 
dreamed  of  watching  you.  Providence  has  put  your  plans 
in  my  hands  at  nearly  every  step,  but  I  was  so  ignorant  that, 
of  myself,  the  information  would  have  done  but  little  service 
to  poor  Jack.  I  came  into  the  court  by  the  merest  chance. 
I  saw  you  get  into  the  cab  at  Willard's,  and  as  I  had  only 
reached  Washington,  I  wanted  to  see  you  before  you  went 
away.  I  drove  after  you — followed  without  the  slightest 
suspicion  of  the  place  or  your  purpose  in  it." 

"Well,  all  your  running  about  is  useless.  He  will  be 
sentenced  to  death  and  the  family  disgraced.  Nothing  can 
now  prevent  that." 

"  Yes,  Jack  can  prevent  it  !    I  can  prevent  it  1 " 

"How?" 

"  Jack  will  be  found.  Surely  they  dare  not  commit  such 
a  monstrous  crime  against  the  absent,  the  undefended !  " 

"  Well,  we  won't  talk  of  it.  I  suppose  you  are  with  the 
Spragues  ? " 

"  Yes;  I  shall  remain  with  them  until  this  is  ended." 

"  What  if  I  should  tell  you  to  come  home  with  me  ? " 

"  I  should,  of  course,  obey  you  if  you  commanded  me. 
But  before  doing  so  I  should  have  to  put  my  statement  in 
legal  shape— that  is,  swear  to  it,  and  give  my  address  to  the 
court  that  I  might  be  regularly  summoned." 

"  You  know  something  of  law,  too,  I  see.  I  sha'n't  ask 
you  to  go  home,  nor  shall  I  go  myself.  I  shall  remain  to 
see  how  this  affair  turns  out." 

They  were  driving  down  Pennsylvania  Avenue  now. 
Kate,  recalling  her  departure,  asked,  "  You  did  not  get  the 
letter  I  left  for  you  at  home  I " 


TWO  BLADES  OF  THE   SAME  STEEL.          •     381 

"No,  I  did  not  know  you  were  gone." 

"I  left  a  few  lines  to  tell  you  that  I  had  seen  Jones." 
She  watched  him  as  she  said  this.  He  did  not  start,  as  she 
expected.  His  lips  were  suddenly  compressed  and  his  eye 
grew  dark;  then  he  smiled  grimly. 

"I  hope  you  felt  repaid  for  your  trouble." 

"Yes.  I  felt  amply  repaid.  Jones  has  undertaken  to 
find  out  what  became  of  Jack  after  his  arrival  at  the  Union 
outposts. " 

"  Did  you  discuss  the  whole  affair  with  him  ?  " 

"  Yes.  I  was  greatly  relieved  by  what  I  learned.  I  was 
afraid  you  had  some  sinister  purpose  in  secreting  him  as  the 
only  link  between  Jack  and  his  friends.  It  gave  me  new 
life  to  find  that  you  had  been  so  tender  and  thoughtful  to 
Jones,  for,  as  the  event  proved,  he  no  sooner  learned  that 
there  were  apprehensions  as  to  Jack's  safety,  than  he  set 
about  his  discovery. " 

"  Did  Jones  share  your  grateful  sentiment  ? " 

"  I  think  he  did.  To  spai-e  you  agitation,  he  set  out  at 
once  alone,  in  order  that  you  might  be  relieved  of  all  re- 
sponsibility." 

"  Ah  ! ''  And  Elisha  Boone  sank  far  back  in  the  cushion. 
The  carriage  stopped  in  front  of  Willard's;  then  he  said:  "  I 
shall  remain  here  now.  I  will  order  the  driver  to  take  you 
home.  Come  to  me  as  often  as  you  can."  He  kissed  her  in 
the  old  friendly  way  and  hurried  into  the  hotel. 

"  On  reaching  her  lodgings  she  found  a  telegram  waiting 
her.  It  read:  "Jones  gone  South.  He  will  advise  you  of 
his  movements.  ELKINS." 


382  THE   IRON   GAME. 

CHAPTER  XXXII. 

THE  LOST  CARIBEES. 

MEANWHILE  war,  in  one  of  its  grim  humors,  had  pre- 
pared a  comedy  when  the  stage  was  set  in  tragic  trappings. 
In  the  withdrawal  of  Johnston's  army  from  Manassas—  sig- 
nalized in  history  as  the  Quaker  campaign,  because  our  army 
found  wooden  guns  in  the  deserted  works— that  ardent 
young  Hotspur,  Vincent  Atterbury,  ran  upon  a  disagreeable 
end  to  a  very  charming  adventure.  In  chivalric  bravado, 
to  emphasize  the  fact  that  the  withdrawal  of  the  Confeder- 
ates was  merely  strategic,  not  forced,  the  young  man,  with  a 
lively  company  of  horsemen,  hungering  for  excitement, 
formed  themselves  into  a  defiant  rear-guard.  The  Union 
outposts,  never  suspecting  that  Johnston's  army  was  not  be- 
hind the  enterprising  cavalry,  withdrew  prudently  to  the 
main  forces. 

Then,  when  they  were  convinced  that  the  little  band  was 
merely  on  an  audacious  lark,  forces  were  sent  out  on  either 
flank,  while  the  main  body  feigned  the  disorder  of  retreat. 
The  result  was,  that  Vincent's  squadron  was  handsomely  en- 
trapped, and  in  the  savage  contest  that  ensued  the  intrepid 
major  was  hustled  from  his  horse  with  a  dislocated  shoulder 
and  broken  wrist.  He  was  brought,  with  a  half-dozen  more 
of  his  dare-devil  comrades,  into  the  Union  lines,  and  in  the 
course  of  time  found  himself  in  the  hideous  shambles  allot- 
ted rebel  prisoners  at  Point  Lookout,  Maryland.  Too  weak 
at  first,  or  too  confused,  to  bethink  himself  of  his  Northern 
friends,  Vincent  shared  the  hard  usage  of  his  companions  and 
resigned  himself  patiently  to  the  slow  procedure  of  exchange, 
which  was  now  going  on  regularly,  since  the  Union  victo- 
ries in  the  West  and  South  had  given  the  Northern  authori- 
ties ten  prisoners  to  the  Southerners'  one.  The  prospect  of 
his  own  release  was,  under  these  circumstances,  rather  dis- 
tant, as  without  special  intervention  he  would  have  to  await 
his  turn,  the  rule  being  that  those  first  captured  were  first 
exchanged.  He  knew  that  his  family's  influence  and  his 


THE   LOST   CARIBEES.  383 

own  intimacy  with  General  Johnston  would  probably  hasten 
the  release,  but  he  could  not  count  upon  an  immediate  re- 
turn to  his  duties,  and  in  view  of  this  he  was  not  very  re- 
luctant to  undergo  convalescence  in  the  North. 

Jack's  influence,  he  counted,  would  soon  relieve  him 
from  the  hardships  of  confinement,  and  then  he  should  see 
Olympia — that,  at  least,  was  recompense  for  his  misfortune. 
His  mother  and  Rosa  would  immediately  learn  of  his  capt- 
ure, and  he  might  count  upon  hearing  from  them,  as  very 
generous  latitude  was  allowed  in  such  cases  by  the  authori- 
ties on  both  sides.  He  caused  a  letter  to  be  written  to  Jack, 
addressing  it  to  his  regiment,  in  care  of  the  War  Depart- 
ment, and  waited  patiently  the  response.  His  disappoint- 
ment and  anxiety,  as  days  passed  and  he  got  no  answer,  be- 
gan to  tell  on  his  health,  already  weakened  by  his  wounds. 
Thus,  one  day,  when  a  young  lady  was  shown  to  his  bedside 
— who  fell  upon  him  with  a  glad  cry,  and  held  his  head  to 
her  breast — he  was  too  far  gone  in  delirium  to  distinguish 
his  sister. 

"  My  darling  !  O  Olympia,  I  knew  you  would  come," 
he  murmured,  and  Rosa,  terrified,  but  composed,  soothed 
the  fevered  lover  as  best  she  might.  He  grew  worse  in 
spite  of  all  her  devotion.  The  physicians,  burdened  with 
patients  far  in  excess  of  their  powers,  assured  her  that  her 
brother  would  require  the  most  patient  care  and  enlight- 
ened nursing ;  that  medicine  would  do  him  but  slight  good, 
and  that  she  must  make  up  her  mind  to  a  prolonged  ill- 
ness. Rosa  was  alone  in  the  vast  hospital,  save  for  the  pres- 
ence of  her  maid  Linda,  who  had  come  through  the  lines 
with  her  and  was,  of  course,  under  the  Northern  laws,  free. 
Worse  than  all,  she  was  poorly  provided  with  money,  and 
this  need,  rather  than  Vincent's  love-lorn  babbling  about 
Olympia,  reminded  Rosa  to  call  upon  the  Spragues  for  help. 
She  wrote  at  once  to  Olympia,  telling  the  distressing  story, 
and  then  set  about  bettering  Vincent's  surroundings. 

Point  Lookout  had  been  selected  for  its  natural  prison- 
like  safeguards.  A  rank  bog  surrounded  the  place  on  three 
sides,  and  thus  but  few  troops  were  needed  to  guard  the 


381  THE    IROX  GAME. 

great  mass  of  rebel  prisoners  lodged  in  wooden  barracks  and 
long  lines  of  tents.  Vincent's  case  seemed  to  have  grown 
stationary  after  her  coming.  He  slept  a  fitful,  troubled  sleep 
half  the  day.  At  night  he  grew  delirious  and  restless. 
Rosa  and  Linda  divided  the  hours  into  watches,  and  admin- 
istered the  draughts  prepared  by  the  stewards.  Through 
the  humanity  of  the  physician  in  charge,  the  invalid  had 
been  transferred  to  an  A  tent,  where  Rosa  could  remain  day 
and  night  unmolested  with  her  maid.  Vincent  thus  cared 
for,  Rosa  began  to  think  of  the  other  poor  fellows  in  her 
brother's  squadron,  and  set  about  a  systematic  search  for 
them.  Many  of  them  she  found  in  the  general  wards  of  the 
hospital.  It  was  on  this  kindly  mission  one  day  that  she 
heard  her  brother's  name  mentioned  by  a  civilian,  who  was 
talking  with  an  official  in  uniform. 

"  Major  Atterbury  ?  Oh,  yes ;  he  was  removed  to  division 
D.  You  will  find  him  in  a  separate  tent.  He  has  a  woman 
nurse.  I  will  send  an  orderly  with  you." 

Rosa  did  not  recognize  the  civilian  at  first,  but  as  he 
turned  to  accompany  the  soldier  she  remembered  where  she 
had  seen  him  before.  He  was  the  prisoner  Jack  had  spoken 
with  in  Richmond  the  day  the  party  visited  the  tobacco 
warehouse.  She  hastened  her  step,  and,  as  she  came  up  with 
the  men,  she  said,  tremulously : 

"  I  am  Major  Atterbury 's  sister.  My  brother  is  uncon- 
scious. Can  I  attend  to  the  business  you  have  with  him  ? " 

Jones  turned  and  stopped,  glancing  in  surprise  at  the 
girl. 

"  I'm  sorry  to  learn  that  your  brother's  so  low.  But  you 
can  do  all  that  I  hoped  from  him.  Here  is  a  letter  addressed 
to  John  Sprague.  It  was  received  at  his  regiment  three  days 
ago.  I  happened  to  be  there  making  inquiries  for  him,  and 
the  colonel  handed  it  to  me.  Under  the  circumstances  I 
felt  justified  in  reading  it,  and  it  turns  out  that  I  did  well." 

"  John  Sprague  is  missing  ? "  Rosa  cried,  her  mind,  in- 
stantly at  work  in  alarm  for  some  one  else. 

Jones,  dismissing  the  orderly,  told  her  the  facts  as  we 
have  already  followed  them.  Leaving  out  all  mention  of 


THE   LOST   CARIBEES.  385 

Kate,  he  told  her  how  he  had  hurried  down  to  Newport 
News,  and  thence  to  the  outposts  on  the  Warrick. 

There  he  had  learned  that  Jack  and  Dick  had  been 
wounded,  fatally  the  story  went,  in  the  final  volley  fired  by 
the  pursuers.  They  had  been  carried  to  the  hospital  at 
Hampton.  But  there  all  trace  had  been  lost.  The  steward 
who  received  them  and  the  surgeon  who  had  taken  their  de- 
scriptive list  had  been  transferred  to  St.  Louis.  There  was, 
however,  no  record  of  their  deaths,  and  upon  that  he  based 
the  hope  that  they  were  either  in  hospital,  or  had  been, 
through  some  strange  confusion,  assigned  among  rebel 
wounded,  a  thing  that  had  frequently  happened  in  the 
hurry  of  transporting  large  numbers  of  wounded  men. 

u  And  does  Mrs.  Sprague  know  all  this  ? "  Rosa  cried,  un- 
derstanding now  why  Vincent's  letter  and  her  own  had  not 
brought  a  response. 

"  Partly,  I  think.  Mrs.  Sprague  and  her  daughter  are  in 
Washington,  in  the  state  of  mind  you  may  imagine,  and  ex- 
hausting bales  of  red  tape  to  reach  the  lost  boys." 

Poor  Rosa!  She  had  thought  her  grief  and  terror  too 
much  to  endure  before.  Now  how  trivial  Vincent's  fever  in 
comparison  with  this  appalling  disappearance  of  Dick  and 
Jack !  She  walked  on  over  the  sparse  herbage,  over  her  shoes 
in  the  soft  sand,  when  Linda  came  running  from  the  tent  in 
joyous  excitement. 

"  De  good  Lord,  Miss  Rosa,  she's  here ;  she's  done  come ! " 

"Who  is  here — who  is  come  ?  "  Rosa  cried,  impatiently; 
"  not  mamma  ? " 

"  'Deed  no,  Miss  Rosa;  Miss  Limpy." 

"  What  ? " 

"  Yes,  indeedy ;  and,  oh,  bress  de  Lord,  Massa  Vint  knows 
her,  and  is  talkin'  like  a  sweet  dove  1 " 

It  was  true.  Miss  u  Limpy,"  blushing  very  red,  was  sur- 
prised by  Rosa  in  a  very  motherly  attitude  by  the  patient's 
cot.  The  two  girls  melted  in  a  delirious  hug,  mingled  with 
spasmodic  smacks  of  the  lips  and  a  soft,  gurgling  crescendo 
of  exclamation,  not  very  intelligible  to  Jones  and  Linda, 
who  discreetly  remained  near  the  door  on  the  outside. 


386  THE  IRON   GAME. 

Vincent's  eyes  were  fixed  on  Olympia.  For  the  first 
time  in  ten  days  they  shone  with  the  light  of  reason.  He 
smiled  softly  at  the  scene  and  murmured  lightly  to  himself. 
Warned  not  to  tax  the  feeble  powers  of  the  invalid,  Rosa 
and  Jones  withdrew,  leaving  Olympia  to  recover  from  the 
fatigues  of  her  journey  in  the  tent  with  Vincent. 

"  Now,  you're  not  to  talk,  you  know,"  Olympia  said,  with 
matronly  decision.  "  I  shall  remain  here  to  mesmerize  you 
into  repose.  You  know  I  am  a  magnetic  person.  Be  per- 
fectly quiet,  and  keep  your  eyes  off  me.  They  make  me 
nervous." 

"  I  can  only  keep  my  eyes  away  on  condition  you  put 
your  hand  in  mine.  Then  the  magnetic  current  can  have 
full  play." 

"  My  impression  is  that  you  have  not  been  ill  at  all.  I 
believe  you  have  been  shamming,  to  escape  the  harder  lines 
of  the  prison.  Very  well,  you  needn't  answer.  I'll  take 
that  shake  of  the  head  as  denial  and  proof  for  want  of  bet- 
ter. Now,  I  will  give  you  the  history  of  our  doings  since  I 
saw  you  at  Fairfax  Court-House  in  January.  I  got  home 
safe.  I  found  mamma  in  painful  excitement." 

He  moved  impatiently,  and  said,  beseechingly : 

"  But  tell  me  how  you  got  here  so  soon.  How  did  you 
learn  I  was  here  ?  Jack  told  you  when  he  got  my  letter  ? " 

"  O  Vincent,  that  was  what  I  was  coming  to !  Jack  has 
never  been  seen  or  heard  from  since  he  escaped  from  your 
troops  near  the  Warrick.  I  did  not  know  you  had  written. 
I  got  a  letter  from  Rosa  yesterday  morning  and  went  at  once 
to  the  War  Department,  where  we  have  a  good  friend — " 

"  I  can't  understand  it.  All  these  things  are  done  with 
system  in  an  army  like  yours.  Men  can't  disappear  like 
this,  leaving  no  record.  I'll  stake  my  head  there's  foul 
play,  if  the  boys  can't  be  found.  Have  you  made  inquiry 
in  the  company  on  duty  where  Jack  and  his  companions 
got  into  your  lines  ? " 

She  explained  all  the  efforts  that  had  been  made — how 
Brodie  had  been  baffled,  and  how  letters  had  been  sent  to  the 
commanding  officer  at  Fort  Monroe. 


TIIE  LOST   CARIBEES.  387 

"  We  had  begun  to  think  that  Jack  had  been  recaptured ; 
but  surely,  if  he  were,  you  would  have  known  of  it." 

"  Of  course  I  should." 

"  Then  that  confines  the  search  to  our  own  lines.  I  can 
not  make  myself  believe  that  Jack  is  dead,  though  mamma 
has  nearly  made  up  her  mind  to  it.  The  mysterious  part 
of  the  affair  is,  that  we  can  not  find  one  of  the  men  who 
escaped  with  Jack,  though  it  was  announced  in  the  papers 
weeks  ago  that  a  party  of  them  had  arrived  at  Fort  Mon- 
roe." 

"  And  young  '  Perley '  ? " 

"  He,  too,  we  can  get  110  ttace  of." 

"Good  heavens!  I'm  glad  Rosa  doesn't  know  that; 
she'd  be  in  every  camp  and  hospital  in  the  North  until 
she  had  found  her  sweetheart." 

"  That  sounds  something  like  a  reflection  on  us — mamma 
and  me." 

"Ah!  never.  What  I  mean  is,  that  Rosa  is  such  an 
impulsive,  silly  child,  she  would  do  all  sorts  of  imprudent 
things.  How  could  you  do  such  a  thing  ?  Preposterous ! " 

"  Well,  I  began  it  yesterday  morning.  As  I  said,  so  soon 
as  I  read  Rosa's  letter,  I  went  to  headquarters,  where  we 
have  a  good  friend,  and  gave  my  word  for  your  safe  keep- 
ing. You  are  to  be  our  prisoner ;  but  if  you  escape  you  will 
get  us  into  trouble,  for  we  are  none  too  well  considered  by 
the  folks  in  power." 

"God  forgive  me,  Olympia!  escape  is  the  last  thing  I 
think  of  now,  when  I  am  near  you.  I  was  going  to  say  I 
should  never  care  to  go  back,  but  I  know  you  wouldn't 
think  the  better  of  me  for  that." 

"  I  don't  know.  Why  should  you  go  back  ?  The  South 
is  sure  to  be  beaten.  We  are  conquering  territory  every 
day,  from  the  armies  at  Donelson  to  the  forts  at  New  Orleans. 
We  shall  beat  you  in  Virginia  so  soon  as  General  McClellan 
gives  the  word." 

"  Even  if  that  were  the  case,  my  duty  and  my  honor  would 
point  to  but  one  course — to  return  to  the  natural  course  of 
exchange." 


388  THE   IRON   GAME. 

"  Honor  ?  Vincent,  it  is  a  vague  term  under  such  circum- 
stances—' 

"  I  could  not  love  you,  dear,  so  much,  loved  I  not  honor 
more.  You  know  you  gave  me  that  for  a  motto." 

"  Poetic  rubbish,  Mr.  Soldier ;  but  I  must  leave  you  now. 
You  will  insist  on  talking,  and,  as  I  shall  be  held  respon- 
sible to  your  mother  and  Rosa,  I  must  be  firm — not  another 
syllable !  Besides,  the  imprudence  will  keep  you  here  long- 
er, and  if  you  are  to  be  carried  away  you  must  get  well  at 
once.  I  can't  leave  mamma  alone  in  Washington  with  such 
grief  preying  upon  her." 

He  answered  with  a  glance  of  pitying  pleading.  He 
looked  so  helpless — so  woe-begone— that  she  bent  over  near 
his  face  to  smooth  his  disordered  bandages.  When  she 
withdrew  she  was  blushing  very  pretitly,  and  Vincent  was 
smiling  in  triumph.  "  On  these  terms,"  the  smile  seemed  to 
say,  "  I  will  be  mute  for  an  age." 

What  an  adroit  ally  war  is  to  love  !  Here  was  the  self- 
contained  Olympia — so  confident  of  herself — fond  and  yield- 
ing as  Eosa;  when  war  rushed  in,  infirmity  came  to  the  res- 
cue of  Vincent's  despairing  passion. 

Meanwhile,  Jones  began  a  systematic  search  among  the 
prisoners  for  the  missing  Caribees.  Rosa  joined  with  impatient 
ardor.  There  were  three  thousand  inmates  of  the  improvised 
city,  but  no  one  resembling  Jack  or  Dick  could  be  found. 
Linda,  ministering  to  some  of  Vincent's  comrades,  was  pite- 
ously  besought  to  ask  her  mistress's  good  offices  for  an  orderly 
in  the  small-pox  ward.  This  was  a  tent  far  off  from  the  main 
barracks  on  the  beach,  attended  only  by  a  single  surgeon  and 
a  corps  of  rather  indifferent  nurses.  Two  of  Vincent's  men 
were  in  this  lazar,  shut  off  from  the  world,  for  the  soldier, 
reckless  in  battle,  has  a  shuddering  horror  of  this  loathsome 
disease.  Rosa  instantly  resolved  that  she  would  herself 
nurse  the  plague-smitten  rebels.  She  had  no  fear  of  the 
disease,  the  truth  being  that  she  had  only  the  vaguest  idea 
of  what  it  was.  With  great  difficulty  she  obtained  per- 
mission to  visit  the  outcast  colony.  She  was  forced  to  en- 
ter the  noisome  purlieu  alone,  even  the  maid's  devotion 


THE   LOST   CARIBEES.  389 

rebelling  against  the  nsmeless  horror  small-pox  has  for  the 
African. 

Once  within  the  long  marquee,  however,  Rosa  was  re- 
lieved to  find  that  the  casual  spectacle  was  not  different  from 
that  of  the  other  seriously  sick- wards.  A  melancholy  silence 
seemed  to  signalize  the  despair  of  the  twoscore  patients,  each 
occupying  a  cot  screened  from  the  rest  by  thin  canvas  cur- 
tains. Double  lines  of  sentries  guarded  each  opening  of  the 
marquee,  so  that  no  one  could  pass  in  or  out  without  the  rig- 
idly vised  order  of  the  surgeon-in-chief.  Braziers  of  char- 
coal burned  at  the  foot  of  each  bed,  while  the  atmosphere 
was  heavy  with  a  strong  solution  of  carbolic  acid,  then  just 
beginning  to  be  recognized  as  a  sovereign  preventive  of  ma- 
larious vapors,  and  an  antiseptic  against  the  germs  of  disease. 
Rosa  inquired  for  the  proteges  she  was  seeking.  They  were 
pointed  out,  on  one  side  of  the  tent,  the  steward  accompany- 
ing her  to  each  cot. 

"  All  have  the  small-pox  ? "  she  inquired,  shuddering,  as 
she  glanced  at  the  white  screens,  behind  which  an  occasional 
plaintive  groan  could  be  heard. 

"  Oh,  no  !  there  are  some  here  that  have  no  more  small- 
pox than  I  have." 

"  Then  why  do  you  keep  them  here  ? "  Rosa  asked,  indig- 
nantly. 

"  Oh,  red  tape,  miss.  There's  two  men  that  were  brought 
here  three  months  ago.  They'd  no  more  small-pox  than  you 
have,  miss ;  but  they  were  assigned  here,  and  I  have  given  up 
trying  to  get  them  taken  to  the  convalescent  camp.  The 
truth,  is  the  surgeon  in  charge  is  afraid  to  show  up  here.  The 
others  make  by  the  number  they  have  in  charge,  for  we  are 
allowed  extra  pay  and  an  extra  ration  for  every  case  on  hand. " 

"  Why,  this  is  infamous  ! "  Rosa  cried.  "  It  is  murder. 
Why  don't  you  write  to  the— the — head  man  ? " 

"  And  get  myself  in  the  guard-house  for  my  trouble  ?  No, 
thank  you,  miss.  I  wouldn't  have  spoken  to  you  if  it  hadn't 
been  for  the  sympathy  you  showed  coming  in,  and  to  sort  o' 
show  you  that  you  are  not  running  so  much  danger  as  folks 
try  to  make  you  believe." 


390  THE   IRON   GAME. 

Rosa  had  a  basket  on  her  arm  filled  with  such  comforting 
delicacies  as  the  surgeon,  had  advised.  She  set  about  admin- 
istering them  to  her  brother's  orderly,  when  a  feeble  voice 
in  a  cot  a  few  feet  away  fell  upon  her  ear.  She  started. 
Though  almost  a  whisper,  there  was  a  strange  familiarity  in 
the  low  tone.  She  turned  to  the  steward — 

"  Who  is  in  the  third  cot  from  here  ?  " 

"  Let  me  see.  Oh,  yes,  number  seven ;  that's  a  man  named 
Paling. 

"And  the  next?" 

"  Number  eight ;  that's  a  man  named  Jake,  or  Jakes,  I'm 
blessed  if  I  am  certain.  They've  been  out  of  their  head  since 
they  come.  They're  the  two  I  spoke  of  who  ain't  no  more 
small-pox  than  I  have." 

"  May  I  see  them  ? " 

"  Certainly.  I'll  see  that  they're  in  shape  for  inspection, 
and  call  you." 

He  disappeared  behind  the  curtain  and  could  be  heard  in 
a  kindly,  jovial  tone : 

"  There,  sonny,  keep  kivered ;  the  lady  is  coming  to  bring 
you  something  better  than  the  doctor's  gruel,  so  lie  still." 

Beckoning  to  Rosa,  he  made  way  for  her  to  enter  the 
narrow  aisle  of  number  seven,  but  he  nearly  fell  over  the 
man  across  the  bed,  when  Rosa,  with  a  shriek,  fell  upon  the 
body  of  number  seven,  crying: 

"  0,  my  darling,  my  darling,  I  hcive  found  you !  " 

It  would  have  required  the  eyes  of  maternal  love  of  Rosa's 
to  recognize  our  jaunty  Dick  in  the  emaciated,  fleshless  face 
that  lay  imbedded  in  the  disarray  of  the  cot.  Dick's  blue 
eyes  were  sunken  and  dim,  his  lips  chalky  and  parched.  He 
made  no  sign  of  recognition  when  Rosa  drew  back  with  her 
arm  under  his  head  to  scrutinize  the  disease-worn  face. 

"  Sometimes,  miss,  he  is  in  his  right  mind— but  he  goes 
off  again  like  this.  Is  the  other  man  his  brother  ?  They 
seem  to  understand  each  other  when  they  are  at  the  worst. 
Once  when  we  separated  them  they  fought  like  maniacs  uii 
til  we  were  forced  to  let  them  be  near  again." 

"Oh,  yes — the  other."    Rosa  started  and  hastened  to  the 


THE   LOST   CARIBEES.  391 

next  cot.  Yes,  it  was  Jack — or  a  piteous  ghost  of  him.  He 
was  sleeping,  and  she  withdrew  gently. 

"  Please  distribute  the  contents  of  the  basket  to  the  men 
I  named.  I  will  be  back  presently." 

With  this  she  darted  out,  running  at  the  top  of  her  speed, 
heedless  even  of  the  peremptory  challenge  of  the  sentries, 
who  thought  her  mad  or  stricken  with  the  plague,  and  made 
no  attempt  to  molest  her.  She  ran  straight  to  Jones's  quar- 
ters. He  was  writing,  and  started  hi  surprise  as  she  entered 
panting  and  breathless. 

''  Ah !  I  have  found  them ;  I  have  found  them ! "  She 
could  say  no  more.  Jones  helped  her  to  a  seat  and  held  a 
glass  of  water  to  her  lips.  Then  she  regained  breath. 

"  They  are  in  the  small-pox  ward,  but  they  haven't  the 
disease.  Ah !  they  are  there,  they  are  there.  Come  at  once 
and  take  them  away.  Ah!  take  them  away  this  minute." 

"  By  '  they '  do  you  mean  Perley  and  Sprague  ? "  Jones 
asked,  breathlessly. 

"Yes,  ah,  yes.  Thank  G-od!  thank  God!  Ah!  I  could 
say  prayers  from  now  until  my  dying  day.  But,  oh,  Mr. 
Jones,  do,  do  hurry ;  because  they  may  die  if  we  do  not  get 
them  away  from  that  dreadful  pest-house." 

"  It  will  take  some  time  to  get  the  order  for  the  removal. 
Meanwhile,  they  will  need  good  nursing.  If  you  hope  to 
help  them  you  must  be  calm ;  you  must  keep  well.  Now  go 
to  your  brother.  It  is  just  as  well  that  Miss  Sprague  went 
away  this  morning.  Before  she  comes  back,  her  brother  will 
be  in  a  place  she  can  visit  with  safety.  You  can  not  go  back 
there.  You  must  remain  patient  now  until  I  get  them  away 
from  that  dangerous  place." 

It  was  not  until  the  next  day  that  the  red  tape  of  the  estab- 
lishment was  so  far  cut  as  to  warrant  the  surgeon  in  charge 
in  making  a  personal  inspection  of  the  two  invalids.  He  at 
once,  and  in  indignant  astonishment,  pronounced  the  two 
untouched  by  the  disease  set  against  their  names  in  their 
papers  of  admission.  Early  in  the  afternoon  they  were  car- 
ried on  a  stretcher  to  a  clean,  fresh  tent  on  the  sandy  beach, 
where  the  laurel  bushes  almost  ran  into  the  water.  Letters 


392  THE  IRON  GAME. 

had  been  dispatched  to  Olympia  informing  her  that  Jack 
was  found,  and  urging  her  to  come  on  at  once.  The  next 
evening  the  three  ladies  arrived — Mrs.  Sprague,  Olympia, 
and  Kate.  With  them  they  brought  a  renowned  physician 
who  had  been  uniformly  successful  in  treating  maladies  of 
the  sort  the  lads  were  described  as  suffering. 

Days  of  painful  anxiety  followed.  Once,  all  hope  of  Dick 
was  abandoned,  and  his  aunts  were  telegraphed  for.  But, 
in  the  end,  he  opened  his  big  blue  eyes,  sane  and  convales- 
cent. There  was  rapid  mending  after  this,  you  may  be  sure. 
Kate  had,  through  Olympia's  unobtrusive  manoeuvring, 
been  forced  to  bear  the  burden  of  Jack's  nursing,  and,  some- 
how, when  that  impatient  warrior  mingled  amorous  plead- 
ings with  his  early  consciousness,  she  forgot  upon  which 
side  the  burden  of  repentance  and  forgiving  lay.  She  list- 
ened with  gentle  serenity  to  his  protestations,  checking  him 
only  by  the  threat  to  quit  the  place  and  return  to  her  father. 

During  all  this,  Rosa  was  divided  in  her  mind.  She  re- 
sented the  assiduity  of  Jones  in  the  recovery  of  Dick.  That 
reticent  person  had  installed  himself  in  Dick's  tent  and 
never  quitted  the  lad,  day  or  night,  unless  to  relinquish  him 
to  Rosa's  arbitrary  hand.  When,  one  day,  Pliny  and  Merry 
Perley  entered  the  tent,  Jones  changed  color.  The  two 
ladies,  not  heeding  the  stranger,  fell  upon  the  convalescent 
on  the  cot,  and  Jones  slipped  away.  Thereafter  Rosa  had 
her  invalid  to  herself,  Jones  only  reappearing  at  night,  to 
keep  the  vigils  of  the  dark.  A  month  later,  the  invalids 
were  strong  enough  to  be  removed.  An  inquiry  had  been 
set  on  foot  to  account  for  the  presence  of  the  two  Union 
soldiers  among  the  rebel  prisoner.  The  result  was  confus- 
ing, however.  The  facts  seemed  to  point  out  design  in  the 
original  entry  of  the  young  men's  names  at  Hampton,  where 
they  had  been  taken  when  brought  in  by  the  outposts. 

The  dispersion  of  the  rest  of  their  companions  from  Rich- 
mond was  accounted  for  by  furloughs  granted  them  so  soon 
as  they  reached  the  provost-marshal's  office.  Just  before 
leaving  Point  Lookout  Jack  received  a  much-directed  letter 
that  gave  signs  of  having  been  in  every  mail-bag  in  the 


THE   LOST   CARIBEES.  393 

Army  of  the  Potomac.  It  was  from  Barney  Moore,  bristling 
with  wonder  and  turgid  with  vvoful  lamentation  at  Jack's 
coldness  in  not  writing  him.  He  had  been  sent  by  mistake 
to  Ship  Island,  near  New  Orleans,  to  join  his  regiment,  and 
had  only  at  the  writing  of  the  letter  reached  Washington, 
where  the  Caribees  were  expected  every  day  to  move  to  the 
Peninsula  in  McClellan's  new  campaign. 

So  soon  as  he  was  sufficiently  recovered  to  write,  Jack 
reported  by  letter  to  the  regiment.  He  had  received  no  re- 
ply. The  explanation  was  awaiting  him  so  soon  as  he 
reached  Washington.  While  seated  with  his  mother  in 
Willard's,  a  heavy  knock  came  on  the  door.  It  was  thrown 
open  before  the  maid  could  reach  it.  A  provost  corporal 
stood  on  the  threshold,  a  file  of  men  behind  him: 

"  I  have  an  order  for  the  arrest  of  Sergeant  John  Sprague. " 

"  I  am  John  Sprague.     Of  what  am  I  accused? " 

"  I  have  no  orders  to  tell  you.  My  orders  are  to  deliver 
you  at  the  provost  prison.  You  will  hear  the  charges  there." 

"  But  I  am  still  under  the  doctor's  charge.  I  am  on  the 
hospital  list." 

''  I  don't  know  what  condition  you  are  in.  My  orders 
are  to  arrest  you,  and  you  know  I  have  no  option.  All  can 
be  remedied  at  the  provost's  office." 

"  I  will  go  with  you,  my  son,"  Mrs.  Sprague  said,  trying 
to  look  untroubled.  "It  is  some  error  which  can  be  ex- 
plained." 

"  No,  mamma,  you  can't  come.  Send  word  to  the  coun 
sel  you  engaged  in  the  search.  I  fancy  it  is  some  mistake ; 
but  I  wish  it  hadn't  occurred  just  now.  I  wouldn't  write 
Olympia  about  it."  Olympia  had  gone  on  to  Acredale  with 
Kate,  to  set  the  house  in  order  for  a  season  of  festivity. 
Jack,  Vincent,  Dick,  and  the  rest,  were  to  join  them  so  soon 
as  the  invalid  had  taken  rest  in  Washington. 

The  guard  indulged  Jack  in  a  carriage  to  headquarters. 
Here  he  was  handed  over  to  a  lieutenant  in  charge,  and  con- 
ducted to  a  prison-like  apartment  in  the  rear. 

"  What  is  the  charge  against  me  ? "  Jack  asked,  as  the 
officer  touched  a  bell. 


394  THE   IRON   GAME. 

"  I  am  not  acquainted  with  the  papers  in  your  case.  My 
instructions  are  to  hold  you  until  called  for. — Sergeant,"  he 
added,  as  a  soldier  in  uniform  entered,  "  the  prisoner  is  to  be 
confined  in  close  quarters,  and  is  not  to  be  lost  sight  of  night 
or  day." 

The  soldier  saluted  and  motioned  Jack  to  follow  him, 
two  other  soldiers  closing  in  behind  him  as  he  set  out.  At 
the  end  of  a  short  hallway  the  sergeant  stopped,  took  a  key 
from  a  bunch  at  his  belt,  unlocked  a  heavily-barred  door 
and  motioned  Jack  to  enter.  It  was  useless  to  protest,  use- 
less to  parley.  He  knew  military  procedure  too  well  to 
think  of  it,  but  his  heart  swelled  with  bitter  rage.  This  was 
the  reward  of  an  almost  idolatrous  patriotism — this  was  the 
patrie's  way  of  cherishing  her  defenders.  He  flung  him- 
self on  the  cot  in  a  wild  passion  of  tears  and  rebellious 
scorn.  But  his  humiliation  was  not  yet  ended ;  while  he  sat 
with  his  face  covered  by  his  hands,  he  felt  hands  upon  his 
legs,  and  the  sharp  click  of  a  lock.  He  moved  his  left  leg. 
Great  God  !  it  was  chained  to  an  enormous  iron  bolt.  He 
started  to  rise;  the  sharp  links  of  the  chain  cut  his  ankle  as 
the  great  ball  rolled  away  from  him.  With  a  cry  of  mad- 
ness he  flung  himself  on  the  harsh  pine  pallet,  groaning  his 
heart  out  in  bitter  anguish  and  maledictions.  In  time  food 
was  brought  him,  but  he  sat  supine,  staring  ghastly  at  the 
dull-eyed  orderly,  silent,  unquestioning.  Dim  banners  of 
light  fell  across  the  corridor.  They  were  broken  at  regular 
intervals  by  the  passing  figure  of  a  sentry.  The  night  wore 
on.  There  was  a  lull  in  the  monotonous  tramp.  Steps 
came  toward  Jack's  cell — stopped;  the  key  grated  in  the 
lock;  some  one  touched  him  on  the  shoulder.  He  never 
stirred. 

"  Cheer  up,  Sprague;  it's  all  a  mistake."  It  was  the  voice 
of  the  lawyer. 

At  this  Jack  started,  his  eyes  gleaming  wildly.  "  Ah,  I 
thought  so.  I  knew  I  could  never  have  been  disgraced  like 
this  in  earnest.  They  have  discovered  the  wrong  done  me  ? " 

"  No,  no ;  not  exactly  that,  Jack,  but  we  shall  show  them 
the  mistake,  I  make  no  doubt." 


FATHER   ABRAHAM'S   JOKE.  395 

"  Why  am  I  dishonored  ?  Of  what  am  I  accused  ?  Why 
am  I  here  ? "  Jack  cried,  shivering  under  the  revulsion  from 
despair  to  hope,  and  from  hope  back  to  horror. 

"  You  are  dishonored,  my  poor  young  friend,  because  a 
court-martial  has  found  you  guilty  of  murder,  desertion,  and 
treason  against  the  articles  of  war,  and  you  are  here  because 
you  are  sentenced  to  be  shot  one  week  from  Friday,  in  the 
center  of  a  hollow  square,  seated  on  your  own  coffin." 


CHAPTER  XXXIH. 
FATHER  ABRAHAM'S  JOKE. 

IN  her  own  mind,  as  the  train  rolled  toward  Acredale 
from  Washington,  Kate  was  enjoying  in  anticipation  the 
victory  she  had  to  announce  to  her  father.  He  had  written 
her  regularly  from  Warchester,  where  he  was  engaged  in  an 
important  suit.  She  had  written  more  frequently  than  he, 
but  she  had  made  no  allusion  to  the  happy  ending  of  her 
troubles.  It  was  partly  dread  that  the  knowledge  of  Jack's 
restoration  might  bring  on  more  active  hostility,  as  well  as 
a  whimsical  feminine  caprice  to  spring  the  great  event  upon 
him  when  all  danger  was  over.  She  watched  Dick  and 
Rosa  in  the  seat  near  her,  for  they,  too,  were  of  the  advance 
guard  to  Acredale,  where,  when  Olympia  had  arranged  the 
house,  Vincent  and  Jack  were  to  come  for  final  restoration 
to  health.  When  the  party  arrived  at  the  little  Acredale 
Station  there  was  a  great  crowd  gathered. 

A  company  of  the  Caribees  was  just  setting  out  for  the 
front.  Some  of  the  old  members  recognized  Dick,  and  then 
straightway  went  up  a  cheer  that  brought  all  the  corner 
loiterers  to  the  spot  to  learn  the  goings  on.  It  was  in  con- 
sequence rather  a  triumphal  procession  that  followed  the 
carriage  to  the  Sprague  gateway,  and  even  followed  up  the 
sanded  road  to  the  broad  piazza.  Rosa  remained  with  Olym- 


^96  THE   IRON   GAME. 

pia,  while  Kate  carried  Dick  off  to  commit  him  to  the  aunts 
waiting  on  the  porch  to  welcome  the  prodigal.  Kate  had 
telegraphed  her  coming,  and  her  father  was  at  the  door  to 
meet  her.  He  was  plainly  relieved  and  delighted  to  have 
her  with  him  again,  for  he  held  her  long  and  close  in  his 
arms.  "  Then  all's  forgiven  ;  we're  friends  again,"  she  said, 
laughing  and  crying  together. 

"  There  is  nothing  to  forgive.  It  may  be  a  matter  of  re- 
gret that  you  are  a  Boone  in  blood  rather  than  an  Ovid,  and 
that  you  imitate  the  Booties  in  obstinacy.  But  justice  has 
been  done,  and  there's  no  need  to  quarrel  about  strangers." 

She  didn't  understand  in  the  least  what  he  meant  about 
justice  being  done.  Remembering  that  all  was  well,  she 
smiled  as  they  entered  the  library,  and  when  she  had  re- 
moved her  wraps,  said,  in  repressed  triumph:  "You  need 
never  attempt  the  role  of  Shylock  again.  I  play  Portia  bet- 
ter than  you  play  the  Jew.  You  have  lost  your  pound  of 
flesh." 

''  Well,  be  magnanimous.  Don't  abuse  your  victory.  I 
shouldn't,  in  your  place ;  but  women  are  never  merciful  to 
the  fallen." 

"  I  am  to  you.  For,  see,  I  kiss  you  as  gayly  as  when  I 
believed  you  all  heart  and  goodness." 

"  Now  you  believe  me  no  heart  and  badness  ? " 

"  I  didn't  say  that.  I  say  you  are  given  over  to  sinful 
hates,  and  I  must  correct  you." 

"Well,  I'm  willing  now  to  be  corrected." 

"But  the  correction  will  be  a  severe  one;  you  must  pre- 
pare for  a  very  grievous  penance." 

"  Knowing  you,  I  can  foresee  that  you  won't  spare  the 
rod.  Very  well,  I'll  try  to  get  used  to  it." 

At  this  moment  a  servant  came  to  the  door. 

"  A  note  for  Miss  Kate,"  she  said.  Kate  tore  it  open  and 
read: 

"Come  to  me  at  once.  I  have  frightful  news  from 
Washington.  As  it  concerns  Jack  you  ought  to  know  it. 

"OLYMPIA." 


FATHER  ABRAHAM'S  JOKE.  397 

She  read  the  lines  twice  before  she  could  seize  the  mean- 
ing. Frightful  news  concerning  Jack !  Had  he  suffered  a 
relapse  ?  Had  he  been  accidentally  hurt  ?  No  ;  if  it  had 
been  news  of  that  sort,  Olympia  would  have  come  herself. 
A  gleam  of  prescience  shot  through  her  brain.  The  court 
— the  charges  against  Jack !  That  was  it.  That  was  the  se- 
cret of  her  father' s  equanimity  under  her  raillery.  She 
turned  with  a  rush  into  the  library.  The  bad  blood  of  the 
Boones  was  all  up  in  her  soul  now.  She  walked  straight  at, 
not  to  her  father,  and,  holding  Olympia's  note  before  him, 
said  in  bitter  scorn : 

"  Tell  me  what  this  means.     I  know  that  you  know." 

He  took  the  paper  with  leisurely  unconcern,  affecting  not 
to  remark  Kate's  flashing  wrath :  he  read  the  lines,  handed 
the  paper  back,  or  held  it  toward  Kate,  who  put  her  hands 
behind  her. 

"  Since  it  concerns  you,  my  child,  suppose  you  go  over 
and  ask  Miss  Sprague.  How  should  I  know  the  affairs  of 
such  superior  people  ? " 

"  Could  nothing  soften  you? — humanize  you,  I  was  going 
to  say.  Could  nothing  satisfy  you  but  the  death  of  this  in- 
jured family? — for  this  blow  will  kill  them.  Kill  them? 
Why  should  they  care  to  live  when  that  noble  fellow  has 
been  dishonored  by  your  cruel  acts  ?  Ah,  I  know  what  you 
have  done !  You  have  brought  the  court  to  disgrace  Jack — 
to  make  him  appear  a  deserter.  You  it  was  who,  in  some 
mysterious  way,  caused  him  to  be  abducted  into  the  small-pox 
ward  among  the  rebel  prisoners.  But  it  shall  all  be  made 
known.  I  shall  myself  go  on  the  stand  and  testify  to  your 
handiwork.  Yes,  I  am  a  Boone  in  this.  I  will  follow  the 
lesson  you  have  set  me.  I  will  avenge  the  innocent  and 
save  him  by  exposing  the  guilty." 

"  On  second  thought,  daughter,  you  are  not  in  a  frame  of 
rnind  to  see  strangers  to-night.  You  will  remain  home  this 
evening.  To-morrow  you  can  see  your  friend  and  advise 
her  in  her  sorrow,  whatever  it  is. "  He  went  to  the  door  and 
called  the  servant.  "  Go  to  Miss  Sprague  with  my  compli- 
ments, and  tell  her  my  daughter  is  not  able  to  leave  the 


398  THE   IRON   GAME. 

house  this  evening."  As  the  man  closed  the  outer  door,  Kate 
made  a  step  forward,  crying : 

"You  never  mean  to  say  that  I  am  a  prisoner  in  my  own 
father's  house  ? " 

"  Certainly  not.  We're  not  play-actors.  I  think  it  best 
that  you  should  not  go  to  the  neighbors  to-night,  and  you, 
as  a  dutiful  daughter,  obey  without  murmur,  because  I  have 
always  been  an  indulgent  parent  and  gratified  every  whim 
of  yours,  even  to  letting  you  consort  with  my  bitterest  ene- 
mies for  months."  As  he  spoke,  there  was  a  ring  at  the  door- 
bell. Presently  the  servant  entered  the  room  and  announced 
"Mr.  Jones."  Before  Boone  could  direct  him  to  be  shown 
into  another  room  Jones  entered  the  library,  fairly  pushing 
the  astonished  menial  aside.  Boone  held  up  his  hand  with 
a  warning  gesture,  and  nodded  toward  Kate;  but,  without 
halting,  Jones  advanced  to  Boone's  chair,  and,  seizing  him 
by  the  shoulder,  held  up  a  copy  of  the  afternoon  paper. 

"  Eead  that  ?    What  does  it  mean  ? " 

Boone's  eyes  rested  a  moment  on  the  paragraphs  pointed 
out.  Then,  throwing  the  paper  aside,  he  asked,  coldly : 

"  Why  should  you  ask  me  what  it  means  ?  If  you  are 
interested  in  the  affair,  you  might  find  out  by  writing  to 
the  court." 

At  this,  Jones,  looking  around  the  room,  marked  the  two 
doors,  one  leading  to  the  hall,  the  other  to  the  drawing-room. 
He  deliberately  went  to  each,  and,  locking  it,  slipped  the  key 
in  his  pocket.  He  glanced  reassuringly  at  Kate,  as  she  sat 
dumfounded  waiting  the  issue  of  this  singular  scene.  He 
confronted  Boone,  leaning  against  the  mantel. 

"  It's  just  as  well  that  we  have  a  witness  to  this  final  settle- 
ment, Elisha  Boone. — Twenty  years  ago,  Miss  Boone,  I  was 
a  citizen  of  this  town.  I  was  the  owner  of  these  acres.  I 
am  Richard  Perley.  In  those  days  I  was  a  wild  fellow — I 
thought  then,  a  wicked  one ;  but  I  have  learned  since  that  I 
was  not,  for  folly  is  not  crime.  In  those  days — I  was  barely 
twenty-five — your  father  had  a  hard  ground  to  till  in  his 
way  of  life.  I  became  his  patron,  and  from  that  I  became 
his  slave.  I  never  exactly  knew  how  it  came  about,  but 


FATHER  ABRAHAM'S  JOKE.  399 

within  a  few  years  most  of  my  property  was  mortgaged  to 
Elisha  Boone.  I  won't  accuse  him,  as  the  world  does,  of 
inciting  me  to  drink  and  gambling.  God  knows  he  has 
enough  to  answer  for  without  that !  In  the  end  I  was  driven 
to  a  deed  that  imperiled  my  liberty,  and  Elisha  Boone  put  the 
temptation  and  the  means  to  do  it  within  my  reach.  Detec- 
tion followed,  and  the  detection  came  about  through  Elisha 
Boone.  All  my  property  in  his  hands,  my  name  a  scorn, 
and  my  person  subject  to  the  law,  Elisha  Boone  had  no  fur- 
ther fear  of  me,  and  thenceforth  doled  me  out  an  income 
sufficient  to  supply  my  modest  wants.  I  strove  to  turn  the 
new  leaf  that  recommends  itself  to  men  who  have  exhausted 
the  so-called  pleasures  of  life.  I  was  living  in  honesty  and 
seclusion  in  Richmond,  when  Boone,  who  had  never  lost 
sight  of  me,  came  with  a  mission  for  me  to  perform.  I  was 
engaged  as  an  agent  of  the  detective  force  of  the  United 
States,  with  the  special  duty  of  rescuing  Wesley  Boone  from 
captivity. 

*'  I  was  further  commissioned  to  get  evidence  against  John 
Sprague,  fixing  upon  him  the  crime  of  betraying  his  colors 
and  aiding  the  Confederacy.  In  the  attempt  to  rescue  Cap- 
tain Boone  at  Rosedale  circumstances  pointed  to  the  guilt  of 
young  Sprague,  but  that  was  all  dissipated  a  few  weeks  after, 
when,  at  the  peril  of  his  own  life,  not  once,  but  a  score  of 
times,  he  rashly  liberated  a  score  or  two  of  prisoners,  and 
personally  led  them  through  an  entire  rebel  army  to  the 
Union  lines.  I,  who  would  have  been  abandoned  by  a  less 
noble  nature,  for  I  was  weakened  by  captivity  and  bad  fare, 
broke  down,  but  Sprague  and — and — young  Dick — my  son, 
clung  to  me  with  such  devotion  as  few  sons  would  exhibit  un- 
der such  trials,  and  brought  me  safe  to  the  outposts.  Here, 
by  some  mysterious  means,  we  were  all  dispersed.  When  I 
found  my  senses  I  was  under  Elisha  Boone's  Samaritan  care 
in  the  house  where  you  saw  me  at  first.  The  two  boys, 
Sprague  and  Perley,  spirited  away  from  the  hospital  at 
Hampton,  where  they  had  been  entered  under  assumed 
names,  Jacques  and  Paling,  were  by  some  curious  instru- 
mentality hidden  in  the  small-pox  ward  of  the  rebel  prison 
26 


400  THE   IRON   GAME. 

at  Point  Lookout.  While  they  lay-  there,  and  while  some 
one  in  Washington  knew  that  they  were  there,  a  court-mar- 
tial in  that  city  hurriedly  convened,  found  John  Sprague 
guilty  of  murder,  desertion,  and  treason,  and  the  evening 
dispatches  from  Washington  state  that  John  Sprague  is  to 
be  shot  a  week  from  Friday  in  a  hollow  square,  in  which  a 
company  of  the  Caribees  is  to  do  the  shooting. 

"  Miss  Boone,  you  worked  faithfully  to  rescue  the  life  of 
this  young  man,  but  your  father  has  brought  that  work  to 
ruin.  Worse,  the  death  you  dreaded  when  you  gave  heart 
and  soul  to  the  rescue  of  the  lost -was  a  mercy  compared  to 
that  in  store 'for  him.  He  is  to  be  shot  by  a  file  of  his  own 
company,  seated  upon  a  rough  board  coffin,  ready  to  receive 
his  mangled  remains.  You  will — " 

But  Kate,  at  this  hideous  detail,  fell  with  a  low,  wailing 
cry  to  the  floor,  happily  dead  to  the  woful  consciousness  of 
the  scene  and  its  meaning.  Jones  ran  to  the  door,  and,  un- 
locking it,  shouted  for  the  servants.  When  they  came,  she 
was  carried  to  her  room  and  the  physician  summoned.  Al- 
most at  the  same  time  Olympia,  in  her  traveling-dress,  drove 
up.  She  was  informed  by  the  servants  of  Kate's  state,  and, 
without  stopping  to  ask  permission,  ran  up  to  the  sick-room. 
Kate  was  now  conscious,  but  at  sight  of  Olympia  she  covered 
her  face,  shuddering. 

"  Ah,  Kate !  Kate !  what  is  it  ?  Have  you  learned  the 
dreadful  news  ?  I  am  going  to  take  the  train  back  this 
evening." 

"  I,  too,  will  go  with  you.  Stay  with  me  ;  don't  leave 
me!" 

She  stopped,  put  out  her  hand,  as  if  to  make  sure  of 
Olympia,  then  broke  into  low  but  convulsive  sobs.  Her 
father,  with  the  doctor,  entered  the  room ;  -but  at  the  sight 
Kate  turned  her  head  to  the  wall,  crying,  piteously : 

"  No,  no— not  here,  not  here !  I  can't  see  him  now !  Oh, 
spare  me !  I — I — " 

"  Do  your  duty,  doctor,"  Boone  said,  in  a  quick,  gasping 
tone,  and  with  an  uncertain  step  quit  the  chamber.  Olympia 
explained  to  the  physician  that  Kate  had  heard  painful  news 


FATHER   ABRAHAM'S   JOKE.  401 

from  an  unexpected  quarter,  and  that  her  illness  was  more 
nervous  than  physical. 

"I  don't  know  about  that,"  the  doctor  said,  decisively. 
He  felt  her  pulse,  then  with  a  quick  start  of  surprise  raised 
her  head  and  examined  the  tongue  and  lining  of  the  pal- 
ate. A  still  graver  look  settled  on  his  face  as  he  tested 
the  breath  and  action  of  the  heart.  When  he  had  appar- 
ently satisfied  himself  he  turned  to  Olympia  with  a  per- 
turbed air,  and,  beckoning  her  into  the  dressing  -  room, 
said: 

"  Miss  Sprague,  this  is  no  place  for  you.  Miss  Boone  has 
every  symptom  of  typhoid  fever.  She  has  evidently  been 
exposed  to  a  malarial  air.  Her  complaint  may  be  even 
worse  than  typhoid — I  can't  quite  make  out  certain  whitish 
blotches  on  her  skin.  I  should  suspect  small-pox  or  vario- 
loid,  but  that  there  has  not  been  a  case  reported  here  for 
years.  Where  has  she  been  of  late  ?  " 

Olympia  turned  ghastly  white  with  horror. 

"O  doctor,  she  has  been  nursing  Jack,  who  was  for 
weeks  in  the  small-pox  ward  at  Point  Lookout ! " 

"  Good  God!  Fly,  fly  the  house  at  once!  I  wondered  if 
I  could  be  deceived  in  the  symptoms.  I  must  insist  on  your 
leaving  at  once. " 

"  But  the  poor  girl  must  have  some  one  of  her  own  sex 
with  her.  Whom  can  she  get  if  not  a  friend  ? " 

"  She  can  get  a  professional  nurse,  and  that  is  worth  a 
dozen  friends.  Indeed,  friends  will  be  only  a  drawback  for 
the  next  ten  days." 

He  took  her  gently  by  the  shoulders  and  pushed  her  out 
of  the  room.  He  was  an  old  friend  of  the  family,  and  she 
was  accustomed  to  his  tyrannical  ways.  He  held  her  stern- 
ly under  way  until  the  front  door  closed  and  shut  her  out. 
Then,  turning  into  the  library,  he  saw  that  the  host  was 
alone.  Closing  the  door,  he  said : 

"  Mr.  Boone,  your  daughter  has  been  exposed  to  a  great 
danger.  We  may  be  able  to  save  her,  but  it  will  require 
great  patience." 

"  Danger,  doctor !    What  do  you  mean  ? " 


402  THE   IRON   GAME. 

"Your  daughter  has  caught  the  most  hideous  of  all  dis- 
eases— small-pox ! " 

Elisha  Boone  started  to  his  feet.  "Great  God!  where 
could  she  catch  small-pox  ? " 

"  She  caught  it  nursing  young  Sprague.  I  thought  you 
knew  of  that;"  and  the  doctor  regarded  the  incredulous, 
terror-stricken  face  of  the  father  with  bewildered  fixity. 
Well  he  might.  The  first  rod  of  the  moral  law  had  just 
struck  him.  The  vengeance  he  had  so  subtly  planned  had 
turned  into  retributive  justice.  He  had  refused  Kate's 
prayer;  he  had  driven  her  to  this  mad  search  and  the  con- 
tagion now  periling  her  life,  or,  if  it  were  spared,  leaving 
her  a  hideous  specter  of  herself.  This  passed  through  his 
shattered  mind  as  the  doctor  stood  regarding  him. 

"  What  do  you  propose  doing  ? "  he  finally  asked,  to  get 
his  thoughts  from  the  torturing  grip  of  conscience. 

"I  propose  to  install  two  trained  nurses  in  the  house. 
You  are  not  to  let  a  soul  know  what  your  daughter  is  suffer- 
ing from.  I  hope  to  be  able  to  check  the  evil  in  the  blood, 
but  I  must  be  secure  against  any  form  of  meddling.  You 
must  avoid  your  daughter's  chamber— indeed,  it  would  be 
better  if  you  could  quit  Acredale  for  a  few  days.  You  would 
be  less  embarrassed  by  intrusive  neighbors  and  keep  your 
conscience  clear  of  evasions." 

So  it  was  settled  that  Boone  should  take  up  his  quarters 
in  Warchester,  coming  out  late  every  night  for  news. 

Meanwhile,  Acredale  had  read  with  amazement,  first,  of 
the  finding  of  Jack  Sprague  among  the  rebels  at  Point  Look- 
out, then,  the  extraordinary  story  of  the  court-martial  and 
death-sentence.  Every  one  called  at  the  Sprague  mansion, 
but  it  was  in  the  hands  of  the  servants,  Olympia  and  her 
guest  having  returned  to  Washington  so  soon  as  the  story 
of  her  brother's  peril  reached  her.  Dick,  too,  had  flown  to 
his  adored  Jack,  and  Acredale,  confounded  by  the  swift  alter- 
nations in  the  young  soldier's  fortunes,  settled  down  to  wait 
the  outcome  with  a  tender  sorrow  for  the  bright  young  life 
eclipsed  in  disgrace  so  awful,  death  so  ignominious. 

We  have  looked  on  while  most  of  the  people  in  this  his- 


FATHER  ABRAHAM'S  JOKE.  4Q3 

tory  worked  through  night  to  lig'ht  in  the  moral  perplexities 
besetting  them.  We  have  seen  warriors  in  love  and  danger 
gallantly  extricating  themselves  and  plucking  the  bloom  of 
safety  from  the  dragon  path  of  danger.  We  have  seen  a 
moral  combat  iu  the  minds  of  most  of  the  people  who  have 
had  to  do  with  our  luckless  Jack.  But  all  herein  set  down 
has  been  the  merest  November  melancholy  compared  to  the 
charnel-house  of  dead  hopes  and  baffled  purposes  that  tor- 
tured Elisha  Boone.  Unlovely  as  Boone  has  seemed  to  us, 
he  had  one  of  the  prime  conditions  of  human  goodness — he 
loved.  He  had  loved  very  fondly  his  son  Wesley.  He  loved 
very  tenderly  his  daughter  Kate. 

With  this  love  came  the  sanctiflcation  that  must  abide 
where  love  is.  I  don't  think  he  had  much  of  what  may  be 
called  the  second  condition  of  human  goodness — reverence. 
If  he  had,  we  should  never  have  seen  him  push  revenge  to 
the  verge  of  crime.  Richard  Perley,  it  is  true,  accuses  him 
of  a  turpitude  that  makes  a  man  shudder  and  abhor ;  but  al- 
lowances must  be  made  for  the  exaggeration  of  a  careless 
spendthrift — a  "  good  fellow,"  than  whom  I  can  conceive  of 
nothing  so  useless  and  mischievous  in  the  human  economy. 
For  my  part,  I  think  I  could  endure  the  frank  heartlessness 
of  a  man  like  Boone  more  philosophically  than  the  false 
good-nature  of  the  creature  men  call  a  good  fellow. 

Obviously,  Boone  did  not  take  Dick  Perley's  estimate  of 
him  very  seriously.  He,  too,  could  have  told  a  tale  not  with- 
out its  strong  features  of  a  shiftless  set,  constantly  borrow- 
ing, constantly  squandering,  constantly  provoking  the  thrifty 
to  accumulate  unguarded  properties.  All  this,  however,  had 
faded  from  the  old -man's  mind  now.  He  had  avenged  him- 
self upon  the  life-long  scorners  of  his  name  and  fame ;  but 
the  blow  that  shattered  their  pride  had  sent  a  dart  to  his 
own  heart.  His  beautiful  Kate,  his  big-hearted,  high-spir- 
ited, man-witted  girl ! — she  would  bear  a  leper-taint  for  life, 
and  his  hand  had  put  the  virus  on  her  perfect  flesh ! 

In  a  few  days  the  black  in  his  hair  withered  to  an  ashen 
white.  His  flesh  fell  away.  H,e  could  neither  eat  nor  sleep. 
He  shambled  through  the  obscure  streets  of  Warchester,  or 


404:  THE   IRON   GAME. 

lingered  wistfully  in  the  beech  woods  behind  his  own  pala- 
tial home  in  Acredale,  staring  at  the  window  of  his  daugh- 
ter's chamber.  The  week  passed  in  such  mental  torture  as 
tries  the  strong  when  confronted  by  the  major  force  of  con- 
science. Then  the  doctor  told  him  that  he  had  balked  the 
plague;  that  Kate  was  recovering  from  varioloid;  that  be- 
yond a  transparency  of  skin,  which  would  add  to  her  beauty 
rather  than  impair  it,  there  would  be  no  sign  of  the  attack. 

Elisha  Boone  slept  in  his  own  home  that  night,  and,  for 
the  first  time  in  forty  years,  he  fell  upon  his  knees — upon 
his  knees!  Indeed,  the  doctor  found  him  so  at  midnight, 
when  he  came  with  a  request  from  his  daughter  to  come  to 
her  room.  The  doctor,  with  a  word  of  warning  against  agi- 
tating the  sufferer,  wisely  retired  from  the  solemn  recon- 
ciliation which,  without  knowing  the  circumstances,  he 
knew  was  to  take  place  between  father  and  child.  She  was 
propped  up  upon  pillows  whose  texture  her  flesh  rivaled  in 
whiteness.  She  opened  her  arms  as  the  specter  of  what  had 
been  her  father  flew  to  her  with  a  stifled  cry. 

"  O  father,  we  have  both  been  wicked !  we  have  both 
been  punished!  Help  me  to  do  my  part;  help  me  to  bear 
my  burden." 

It  was  hope,  mercy,  and  peace  the  meeting  brought.  The 
next  day  Elisha  Boone  bade  Kate  a  tender  farewell.  She 
did  not  ask  him  where  he  was  going.  She  knew,  and  the 
light  in  her  eye  shone  brighter  as  he  rode  in  the  darkness 
over  the  bare  fields  and  through  the  sleeping  towns  to 
the  capital,  where  Jack's  fate  was  hanging  in  the  balance. 
With  Boone's  influence  to  aid  them,  Jack's  friends  found  a 
surprising  change  in  the  demeanor  of  the  officials,  hitherto 
captious  and  indifferent.  Boone  himself  laid  the  case  be- 
fore the  President,  omitting  certain  details  not  essential  to 
the  showing  of  the  monstrous  injustice  done  a  brave  soldier. 
The  President  listened  attentively,  and  with  the  expression, 
half  sad  and  half  droll,  with  which  he  softened  the  asperi- 
ties of  official  life,  said,  humorously : 

"  I  wish  by  such  simple  means  as  courts-martial  we  could 
find  out  more  such  soldiers  as  this ;  we  need  all  of  that  sort 


FATHER  ABRAHAM'S  JOKE.  405 

we  can  get."  He  touched  a  bell,  and,  when  a  clerk  appeared 
in  response,  he  said,  "Ask  General  McClellan  to  come  in 
for  a  moment  before  he  leaves." 

What  need  to  go  into  the  details?  The  court  recon- 
vened, and  traversed  the  charges,  which  were  disproved  or 
withdrawn.  John  Sprague  was  pronounced  guiltless  on 
every  specification,  and,  on  General  McClellan's  recom- 
mendation, was  promoted  to  a  captaincy  and  assigned  to  the 
headquarters  staff.  I  might  go  on  and  tell  of  Jack's  daring 
on  the  Peninsula  and  his  immeasurable  usefulness  to  Mc- 
Clellan in  the  Williamsburg  contest  and  the  final  wondrous 
change  of  base  from  the  Chickahominy  to  the  James  ;  how 
his  services  were  recognized  by  promotion  to  a  colonelcy  on 
the  battle-field  of  Malvern ;  and  how,  when  McClellan  was 
wronged  by  Stanton,  and  removed  from  the  army,  Jack 
broke  his  sword  and  swore  that  he  would  never  serve  again. 
But,  thinking  better  of  it,  he  applied  for  a  place  in  Han- 
cock's corps,  and  was  by  his  side  from  Fredericksburg  to 
Gettysburg.  You  have  seen  from  the  very  first  what  was 
going  to  happen.  The  marriages  all  took  place,  just  as  you 
have  guessed  from  the  beginning.  Young  Dick  was  too 
impatient  and  too  skeptical  to  wait  until  the  end  of  the  war, 
and,  to  the  amazement  of  his  aunts  and  the  amusement  of 
Acredale,  he  carried  Rosa  off,  one  day,  and  was  secretly 
married  in  the  rector's  study  at  Warchester,  so  that  his  first 
son  was  born  under  the  Stars  and  Bars  in  Richmond,  while 
Dick  was  beleaguering  the  walls  at  Fort  Walthall,  four 
miles  away.  The  other  young  people  waited  rationally 
until  a  month  or  two  after  the  peace,  and  while  they  were 
still  entitled  to  wear  the  blue,  and  then  they  were  wedded. 
It  was  said  that  Kate  made  the  most  beautiful  bride  ever 
seen  in  Warchester,  for  it  was  there  they  were  married. 


THE  END. 


APPLETONS'   TOWN  AND  COUNTRY  LIBRARY. 

PUBLISHED    SEMIMONTHLY. 


1.  The  Steel  Hammer.    By  Louis  ULBACH. 

2.  Eve.    A  Novel.    By  8.  BARING-GOULD. 

3.  For  Fifteen  Years.    A  Sequel  to  The  Steel  Hammer.    By  Louis  ULBACH. 

4.  A  Counsel  of  Perfection.    A  Novel.    By  LUCAS  MALBT. 

5.  The  Deemster.    A  Romance.    By  HALL  CAINE. 

5}.  The  Bondman.    (New  edition.)    By  HALL  CAINE. 

6.  A  Virginia  Inheritance.    By  EDMUND  PENDLETON. 

7.  Ninette  •  An  Idyll  of  Provence.    By  the  author  of  Vera. 

8.  "  The  Right  Honourable.""  By  JUSTIN  MCCARTHY  and  Mrs.  CAMPBELL-PBAED. 

9.  The  Silence  of  Dean  Maitlarul.    By  MAXWELL  GRAY. 

10.  Mrs.  Larimer. •  A  Study  in  Black  and  White.    By  LUCAS  MALET. 

11.  The  Elect  Lady.    By  GEORGE  MACDONALD. 

12.  The  Mystery  of  the  "  Ocean,  Star."    By  W.  CLARK  RUSSELL. 

13.  Aristocracy.    A  Novel. 

14.  A  Recoiling  Vengeance.    By  FRANK  BARRETT.    With  Illustrations. 

15.  The   Secret  of  Fontaine-la- Croix.    By  MARGARET  FIELD. 

16.  The  Master  of  Rathkelly.    By  HAWLEY  SMART. 

17.  Donovan:  A  Modern  Englishman.    By  EDNA  LYALL. 

18.  This  Mortal  Coil.    By  GRANT  ALLEN. 

19.  A  Fair  Emigrant.    By  ROSA  MULHOLLAND. 

20.  The.  Apostate.    By  ERNEST  DAUDET. 

21.  Raleigh  Westgate ;  or,  Epimenides  in  Maine.     By  HELEN  KENDHICK  JOHNSON. 

22.  Arius  the  Libyan.    A  Romance  of  the  Primitive  Church. 

23.  Constance,  and  CalboCs  Rival.    By  JULIAN  HAWTHORNE. 

24.  We  Two.    By  EDNA  LYALL. 

25.  A  Dreamer  of  Dreams.    By  the  author  of  Thoth. 

26.  The  Ladies''  Gallery.    By  JUSTIN  MCCARTHY  and  Mrs.  CAMPBKLL-PRAED. 

27.  The  Reproach  of  Annesley.    By  MAXWELL  GRAY. 

28.  Near  to  Happiness. 

29.  In  the  Wire  Grass.    By  Louis  PENDLETON. 

30.  Lace.    A  Berlin  Romance.    By  PAUL  LINDAU. 
30}.  The  Black  Poodle.    By  F.  ANSTEY. 

31.  American  Coin.    A  Novel.    By  the  author  of  Aristocracy. 
82.  Won  by  Waiting.    By  EDNA  LYALL. 

33.  The  Story  of  Helen  Davenant.    By  VIOLET  FAXE. 

34.  The  Light  of  Her  Countenance.    By  H.  H.  BOYESEN. 

35.  Mistress  Beatrice  Cope.    My  M.  E.  LE  CLEBC. 

36.  The  Knight-Errant.    By  EDNA  LYALL. 

37.  In  the  Golden  Days.    By  EDNA  LYALL. 

38.  Giraldi ;  or,  The  Curse  of  Love.    By  Ross  GEORGE  BERING. 

39.  A  Hardy  Norseman.    By  EDNA  LYALL. 

40.  The  Romance  of  Jenny  Harlowe,  and    Sketches  of  Maritime  Life.    By  W. 

CLARK  RUSSELL. 

41.  Passion's  Slave.    By  RICHAKD  ASHE-KING. 

42.  The  Awakening  of  Mary  Fenwick.    By  BEATRICE  WHITBY. 

43.  Countess  Loreley.    Translated  from  the  German  of  RUDOLF  MENGER. 

44.  Blind  Love.    By  WILKIE  COLLINS. 

45.  The  Dean's  Daughter.    By  SOPHIE  F.  F.  VEITCH. 

46.  Countess  Irene.    A  Romance  of  Austrian  Life.    By  J.  FOGERTY. 

47.  Robert  Brownings  Principal  Shorter  Poems. 

48.  Frozen  Hearts.   By  G.  WEBB  APPLETON. 

49.  Vjambek  the  Georgian.    By  A.  G.  VON  SUTTNER. 

CO.  The  Craze  of  Christian  Engelhart.    By  HENRY  FAULKNER  DARNELL. 

51.  Lai.    By  WILLIAM  A.  HAMMOND,  M.  D. 

52.  Aline.    A  Novel.    By  HENRY  GREVILLE. 

53.  Joost  Avelingh.    A  Dutch  Story.    By  MAARTEN  MAARTENS. 

54.  Katy  of  Catoctin.    By  GEOIIGE  ALFRED  TOWNSEND. 

55.  Throckmorton.    A  Novel.    By  MOLLY  ELLIOT  SEAWELL. 

56.  Expatriation.    By  the  author  of  Aristocracy. 

57.  Geoffrey  Hampstead.    By  T.  S.  JARVIS. 


APPLETONS'  TOWN  AND  COUNTRY  LIBRARY.—  (Continued.) 

58.  Dmitri.     A  Romance  of  Old  Russia.    By  F.  W.  Bain,  M.  A. 
59   Part  of  the  Property.    By  BEATRICE  WHITBT. 

60.  Bismarck  in  Private  Life.    By  a  Fellow-Student. 

61.  In  Low  Relief.    By  MOKLET  ROBERTS. 

62.  The  Canadians  of  Old.    A  Historical  Romance.    By  PHILIPPE  GASPE. 

63.  A  Squire  of  Low  Degree.    By  LII.T  A.  LONG. 

64.  A  Fluttered  Dovecote.    By  GEORGE  MANVILLE  FENN. 

65.  The  Nugents  of  Carriconna.    An  Irish  Story.    By  TIGHE  HOPKINS. 

66.  A  Sensitive  Plant.    By  E.  and  D.  GERARD. 

67.  Dona  Lvz.    By  JUAN  VALERA.    Translated  by  Mrs.  MARY  J.  SERRANO. 

68.  Pepita  Ximenez.   By  JUAN  VALERA.    Translated  by  Mrs.  MARY  J.  SERRANO. 

69.  The  Primes  and  their  Neighbors.    By  RICHARD  MALCOLM  JOHNSTON. 

70.  The  Iron  Game.    By  HENBY  F.  KEEN  AN. 

71.  Stories  of  Old  New  Spain.    By  THOMAS  A.  JANVIER. 

72.  The  Maid  of  Honor.    By  Hon.  LEWIS  WINGFIELD. 

73.  In  the  Heart  of  the  Storm.    By  MAXWELL  GRAY. 

74.  Consequences.    By  EGERTON  CASTLE. 

75.  The  Three  Miss  Kings.    By  ADA  CAMBRIDGE. 

76.  A  Matter  of  Skill.    By  BEATRICE  WHITBY. 

77.  Maid  Marian,  arid  Other  Stories.    By  MOLLY  ELLIOT  SEA  WELL. 

78.  One  Woman's  Way.    By  EDMUND  PENDLETON. 

79.  A  Merciful  Divorce.    By  F.  W.  MAUDE. 

80.  Stephen  Ellicott's  Daughter.    By  Mrs.  J.  H.  NEEDELL. 

81.  One  Reason  Why.    By  BEATRICE  WHITBY. 

82.  The  Tragedy  of  Ida  Noble.    By  W.  CLARK  RUPSELL. 

83.  The  Johnstown  Stage,  and  other  Stories.    By  ROBKRT  H.  FLETCHER. 

84.  A  Widower  Indeed.    By  RHODA  BROUGHTON  and  ELIZABETH  BISLAND. 

85.  The  flight  of  a  Shadow.    By  GEORGE  MACDONALD. 

86.  Love  or  Money.    By  KATHARINE  LEE. 

87.  Not  All  in  Vain.    By  ADA  CAMBRIDGE. 

88.  It  Happened  Yesterday.    By  FREDERICK  MARSHALL. 

89.  My  Guardian.    By  ADA  CAMBRIDGE. 

90.  The  Story  of  Philip  Methuen.    By  Mrs.  J.  H.  NEEDELL. 

91.  Amethyst :  The  Story  of  a  Beauty.    By  CHRISTABEL  R.  COLEBIDGB- 

92.  Don  Braulio.    By  JUAN  VALERA.    Translated  by  CLARA  BELL. 

93.  The  Chronicles  of  Mr.  Mil  )1  illiams.    By  RICHARD  MALCOLM  JOHNSTON. 

94.  A  Queen  of  Curds  and  Cream.    By  DOROTHEA  GERARD. 

95.  "  La  Bella  "  and  Others.    By  EGERTON  CASTLE. 

96.  "  December  Roses."    By  Mrs.  CAMPBELL  PRAEE. 

97.  Jean  de  Kerdren.    By  JEANNE  SCHULTZ. 

98.  Etelka's  Vow.    By  DOROTHEA  GERARD. 

99.  Cross  Currents.    By  MARY  A.  DICKENS. 

100.  His  Life's  Magnet.    By  THEODORA  ELMBLIE. 

101.  Passing  the  Love  of  Women.    By  Mrs.  J.  H.  NEEDELL. 

102.  In  Old  St.  Stephen's.    By  JEANIE  DRAKE. 

103.  The  Berkeleys  and  their  Neighbors.    By  MOLLY  ELLIOT  SEAWBLL. 

104.  Nona  Maclean,  Medical  Student.    By  GRAHAM  TRAVHRS. 

105.  Mrs.  Bligh.    By  RHODA  BROUGHTON. 

106.  A  Stumble  on  the  Threshold.    By  JAMES  PAYN. 

107.  Hanging  Moss.    By  PAUL  LINDAU. 

106.  A  Comedy  of  Elopement.    By  CHRISTIAN  REID. 

109.  In  the  Suntime  of  her  Youth.    By  BEATRICE  WHITBY. 

110.  Stories  in  Black'and  White.    By  THOMAS  HARDY  and  Others. 
110J.  An  Englishman  in  Paris.    Notes  and  Recollections. 

111.  Commander  Mendoza.    By  JUAN  VALERA. 

112.  Dr.  Paull's  Theory.    By  Mrs.  A.  M.  DIEHL. 

113.  Children  of  Destiny.    By  MOLLY  ELLIOT  SEAWELL. 
114  A  Little  Minx.    By  ADA  CAMBRIDGE. 

115.  Capt'n  Davy's  Honeymoon.    By  HALL  CAINE. 

116.  The  Voice  of  a  Flower.    By  E.  GERARD. 

117.  Singularly  Deluded.    By  SARAH  GRAND. 

118.  Suspected.    By  LOUISA  STRATENUS. 

119.  Lucia,  Hugh,  and  Another.    By  Mrs.  J.  H.  NEEDBLL, 
WO.  The  Tutor's  Secret.    By  VICTOR  CHERBULIEZ. 


APPLETONS'  TOWN  AND  COUNTRY  LIBRARY  .-(Continued.) 

121.  From  the  Five  Rivers.    By  Mrs.  F.  A.  STEEL. 

122.  An  Innocent  Impostor,  and  Other  Stories.    By  MAXWELL  GBAT. 

123.  Ideala.    By  SARAH  GBANI>. 

124.  A  Comedy  of  Masks.    By  ERNEST  DOWSON  and  ABTHUR  MOORE. 

125.  Relics.    By  CHANCES  MACRAE. 

126.  Dodo  :  A  Detail  of  the  Day.    By  E.  F.  BENSON. 

127.  A  Woman  of  Forty.    By  ESME  STUART. 

1:28.  Diana  Tempest.    By  MAKT  CHOLMONDELEY. 

129.  The  Reciptfor  Diamonds.    By  C.  J.  CUTCLIPPE  HYNB. 

130.  Christina  Chard.    By  Mrs.  CAMPBELL-PRAED. 

131.  A  Gray  Eye  or  So.    By  FRANK  FRANKFORT  MOOBB. 

132.  Earlscourt.    By  ALEXANDER  ALLARDTCE. 

133.  A  Marriage  Ceremony.     By  ADA  CAMBRIDGE. 

134.  A  Ward  in  Chancery.     By  Mrs.  ALEXANDER. 

135.  Lot  13.    By  DOROTHEA  GERARD. 

136.  Our  Manifold  Nature.    By  SARAH  GRAND. 

137.  A  Costly  Freak.    By  MAXWELL  GRAY. 
1138.  A  Beginner.    By  KHODA  BROUGHTON. 

139.  A  Yellow  Aster.     By  Mrs.  MANNINGTON  CAFFYN  ("  IOTA"). 

140.  The  Rubicon.    By  E.  F.  BENSON. 

141.  The  Trespasser.    By  GILBERT  PARKER. 

142.  The  Rich  Miss  Kiddell.    By  DOROTHEA  GEKARD. 

143.  Mary  Fenicick's  Duuqhttr.    By  EEATRICE  WHITBY. 

144.  Red  Diamonds.    By  JUSTIN  MCCARTHY. 

145.  A  Daughter  of  Music.    By  G.  COLJIORE. 

143.  Outlaw  and  Lawmaker.    By  Mrs.  CAMPBELL-PBAED. 

147.  Dr.  Janet  of  Harley  street.   By  ARABELLA  KENEALY. 

148.  George  Mandeville^s  Husband.    By  C.  E.  RAIMOND. 

149.  Vashti  and  Esther. 

150.  Timor's  Two  Worlds.    By  M.  JOKAI. 

151.  A  Victim  of  Good  Luck.    By  W.  E.  NORRIS. 

152.  The  Trail  of  the  Sword.    By  GILBERT  PARKER. 

153.  A  Mild  Barbarian.    By  EDGAR  FAWCETT. 

154.  The  God  in  the  Car.    By  ANTHONY  HOPE. 

155.  Children  of  Circumstance.    By  Mrs.  M.  CAFPYN. 

156.  At  the  Gate  of  Samaria.    By  WILLIAM  J.  LOCKE. 

157.  The  Justification  of  Andrew  Lebrun.     By  FBANK  BARRETT. 

158.  Dust  and  Laurels.    By  MARY  L.  TENDERED. 

159.  The  Good  Ship  Mohock.    By  W.  CLARK  RUSSELL. 

160.  Noemi.    By  8.  BARING-GOULD. 


161.  The  Honour  of  Savelli.     By  S.  LEVETT  YEATS. 

162.  Kitty's  Engagement.    By  FLORENCE  WARDEN. 

163.  The  Mermaid.    By  L.  DOUGALL. 


164.  An  Arranged  Marriage.    By  DOROTHEA  GERARD. 

165.  Eve's  Ransom.    By  GEORGE  GISSINO. 

166.  The  Marriage  of  Esther.    By  GUY  BOOTHBY. 

167.  Fidelia.    By  ADA  CAMBRIDGE. 

168.  Into  the  Highways  and  Hedges.    By  F.  F.  MONTRESOB. 

169.  The  Vengeance  of  James  Vansittart.    By  Mrs.  J.  H.  NEEDELL. 

170.  A  Study  in  Prejudices.    By  GEORGE  PASTON. 

171.  The.  Mistress  of  Q'Mst.    By  ADELINE  SERGEANT. 

172.  In  the  Year  of  Jubilee.    By  GEORGE  GISSING. 

173.  In  Old  New  England.  By  HEZEKIAH  BUTTERWOBTH. 

174.  Mrs.  Musgrave—and  Her  Husband.    By  R.  MABSH. 

175.  Not  Counting  the  Cost.    By  TASMA. 

176.  Out  of  Due  Season.     By  ADELINE  SERGEANT. 

177.  Scylla  or  Charybdis  ?    By  RHODA  BROUGHTON. 

178.  In  Defiance  of  the  King.    By  C.  C.  HOTCHK.ISS. 

179.  A  Bid  for  Fortune.    By  GUY  BOOTHBY. 

180.  The  King  of  Andaman.    By  J.  MACLAREN  COBBAN. 

181.  Mrs.  Tregaskixs.    By  Mrs.  CAMPBELL-PRAED. 

182.  The  Desire  of  the  Moth.    By  CAPEL  VANE. 

183.  A  Self-Denying  Ordinance.    By  M.  HAMILTON. 

184.  Successors  to  the  Title.    By  Mrs.  L.  B.  WALFOBD. 


APPLETONS'   TOWN  AND  COUNTRY  LIBRARY. -(Continued.) 

185.  The  Lost  Stradivarius.    By  J.  MEADE  FALKNER. 

186.  The  Wrong  Man.    By  DOROTHEA  GERARD. 

187.  In  the  Day  of  Adversity.    By  J.  BLOUNDELLE-BURTON. 

188.  Mistress  Dorothy  Marvin.    By  J.  C.  SNAITH. 

189.  A  Flash  of  Summer.    By  Mrs.  W.  K.  CLIFFORD. 

190.  The  Dancer  in  Yellow.    By  W.  E.  NOBRIS. 

191.  The  Chronicles  of  Martin  Hewitt.    By  AKTHUB  MORRISON. 

192.  A  Winning  Hazard.    By  Mrs.  ALEXANDER. 

193    The  Picture  of  Las  Cruces.    By  CHRISTIAN  REID. 

194.  The  Madonna  of  a  Day.    By  L.  DOUGALL. 

195.  The  Kiddle  Ring.    By  JUSTIN  MCCARTHY. 
136.  A  Humble  Enterprise.     By  ADA  CAMBRIDGE. 

197.  Dr.  Nikola.    By  Gcr  BOOTHBT. 

198.  An  Outcast  of  the  Islands.     By  JOSEPH  CONRAD. 

199.  The  King's  Revenge.    By  CLAUDE  BRAT. 

200.  Denounced.    By  f.  BLOUNDELLE-BURTON. 

201.  A  Court  Intrigue.    By  BASIL  THOMPSON. 

202.  The  Idol-Maker.    By  ADELINE  SERGEANT. 
208.  The  Intriguers.    By  JOHN  D.  BARBY. 

204.  Matter  Ardick,  Buccaneer.    By  F.  H.  COSTELLO. 

203.  With  Fortune  Made.    By  VICTOR  CHKRBULIEZ. 

206.  Fellow  Travellers.    By  GRAHAM  TRAVERS. 

207.  McLeodofthe  Camerons.     By  M.  HAMILTON. 

208.  The  Career  of  Candida.    By  GEORGE  PASTON. 

209.  Arrested.    By  ESME  STUART. 

210.  Tatterley.    By  T.  GALLON. 

211.  A  Pinchbeck  Goddess.    By  Mrs.  J.  M.  FLEMING  (Alice  M.  Kipling). 

212.  Perfection  City.    By  Mrs.  ORPEN. 

213.  A  Spotless  Reputation.    By  DOROTHEA  GERARD. 

214.  A  Galahad  of  the  Creeks.     By  8.  LEVETT  YEATS. 

215.  The  Beautiful  White  Devil.    By  GUT  BOOTHBT. 
21(5.  The  Sun  of  Saratoga.    By  JOSEPH  A.  ALTSHELER. 

217.  Fierceheart,  the  Soldier.     By  J.  C.  SNAITH. 

218.  Marietta's  Marriage.     By  W.  E.  NOBRIS. 

219.  Dear  Faustina.    By  RHODA  BROUGHTON. 

220.  Nulma.    By  Mrs.  CAMPBELL-PRAED. 

221.  The  Folly  of  Pen  Harrington.    By  JULIAN  STURGIS. 

222.  A  Colonial' Free- Lance.    "By  C.  C.  HOTCHKISS. 

223.  His  Majesty's  fir^it-xt  Subject.    By  S.  8.  THORBUBN. 

224.  Mifanwy:  A  Welsh  Singer.     By  ALLEN  RAINE. 

225.  A  Soldier  of  Manhattan.    By  JOSEPH  A.  ALTSHELEB, 

226.  Fortune's  Footballs..    By  G.  B.  BURGIN. 

227.  The  Clash  of  Anns.    By  J.  BLOUNDELLE-BURTON. 
223.  God's  Foundling.    By  A.  J.  DAWSON. 

229.  Miss  Providence.    By  DOROTHEA  GERARD. 

230.  The  Freedom  of  Hf-nry  Mertdyth.    By  M.  HAMILTON. 

231.  Sweethearts  and  Friends.    By  MAXWELL  GRAT. 

232.  Sunset.    By  BEATRICE  WHITBT. 

233.  John  of  Klrathbourne.    By  R.  D.  CHETWODE. 

Each,  12mo,  paper  cover,   50  cents)  cloth,  $1.00. 


For  sale  by  all  booksellers ;  or  sent  by  mail  on  receipt  of  price  by  (he  publishers, 
D.  APPLETON  AND   COMPANY,  NEW  YORK. 


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SOME    NOTABLE    AMERICAN    FICTION 

IN 

APPLETONS'  TOWN   AND   COUNTRY  LIBRARY. 

Each,  121110,  cloth,  $1.00;  paper,  50  cents. 

COLONIAL  FREE-LANCE.     By  CHAUNCEY  C. 
HOTCHKISS,  author  of  "  In  Defiance  of  the  King." 

"We  have  had  stories  of  the  Revolution  dealing  with  its  statesmen,  its  soldiers, 
and  its  home  life,  but  the  good  books  relating  to  adventure  by  sea  have  been  few  and 
far  between.  The  best  of  these  for  many  a  moon  is  '  A  Colonial  Free-Lance.'  There 
is  3  rattle  and  dash,  a  continuity  of  adventure  that  constantly  chains  the  reader's  atten- 
tion and  makes  the  book  delightful  reading."  —  Philadelphia  Inquirer. 

^HE    SUN    OF    SARATOGA.       By   JOSEPH    A. 
ALTSHELER. 

"  Taken  altogether,'  The  Sun  of  Saratoga  '  is  the  best  historical  novel  of  American 
origin  that  has  been  written  for  years,  if  not,  indeed,  in  a  fresh,  simple,  unpretending, 
unlabored,  manly  way,  that  we  have  ever  read.  "  —  New  York  Mail  and  Express. 

ASTER  ARDICK,    BUCCANEER.     By  F.  H. 

COSTELLO. 

"This  story  is  one  of  the  real  old-fnshioned  kind  that  novel  readers  will  take  de- 
light in  perusing.  There  are  incident  and  adventure  in  plenty.  The  characters  are 
bold,  knightly,  and  chivalrous,  and  delightful  entertainers."—  Boston  Courier. 

HE   INTRIGUERS.      A    Novel.      By   JOHN   D. 
BARRY. 

"  The  story  is  a  wholesome,  enlivening  bit  of  romance.  It  rings  pure  and  sweet,  and 
is  most  happy  in  its  characterizations."  —  Boston  Herald. 

"  A  bright  society  novel,  sparkling  with  wit  and  entertaining  from  beginning  to 
end."—  Boston  Times. 

'N  DEFIANCE  OF  THE  KING.     A  Romance  of 
the  American  Revolution.     By  CHAUNCEY  C.  HOTCHKISS. 

"  Thrills  from  beginning  to  end  with  the  spirit  of  the  Revolution.  .  .  .  His  whole 
story  is  so  absorbing  that  you  will  sit  up  far  into  the  night  to  finish  it,  and  lay  it  aside 
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'N  OLD  NEW  ENGLAND.     The  Romance  of  a 
Colonial  Fireside.     By  HEZEKIAH  BUTTERWORTH. 

"  We  do  not  remember  any  other  volume  which  holds  within  its  covers  a  series  of 
such  charmina  legends  and  traditions  of  New  England's  earlier  history.  .  .  .  '  In  Old 
New  England '  possesses  a  charm  rare  indeed.  It  will  be  welcomed  by  young  and  old 
alike."-^w  York  Mail  and  Express. 


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'HE  SEATS  OF  THE  MIGHTY.  Being  the 
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last  word  interest  in  the  book  never  wanes;  one  finds  it  difficult  to  interrupt  the  narra- 
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Academy. 

"  The  whole  book,  from  beginning  to  end,  fairly  bristles  with  fun.  ...  It  is  adapted 
for  pure  entertainment,  yet  it  is  not  easily  put  down  or  forgotten." — Boston  Herald. 


T 


HE  LITTLE  REGIMENT,   and  Other  Episodes 
if  the  American  Civil  War.     I2mo.     Cloth,  $1.00. 

"  In  'The  Little  Regiment'  we  have  again  studies  of  the  volunteers  waiting  impa- 
tiently to  fiyht  and  fighting,  and  the  impression  of  the  contest  as  a  private  soldier  hears, 
sees,  and  feels  it,  is  really  wonderful.  The  reader  has  no  privileges.  He  must,  it  seems, 
take  his  place  in  the  ranks,  and  stand  in  the  mud,  wade  in  the  river,  fight,  yell,  swear, 
and  sweat  with  the  men.  He  ha^  some  sort  of  feeling,  when  it  is  alt  over,  that  he  has 
been  doing  just  these  things.  This  sort  of  writing  needs  no  praise.  It  will  make  its 
way  to  the  hearts  of  men  without  praise." — New  York  Times. 

"  Told  with  a  verve  that  brings  a  whiff  of  burning  powder  to  one's  nostrils.  .  .  . 
In  some  way  he  blazons  the  scene  before  our  eyes,  and  makes  us  feel  the  very  impetus 
of  bloody  war."—  Chicago  Evening  Post. 


AGGIE:    A     GIRL     OF     THE     STREETS. 

I2mo.     Cloth,  75  cents. 


M 

"  By  writing  '  Maggie  '  Mr.  Crane  has  made  for  himself  a  permanent  place  in  lit- 
erature. .  .  .  Zola  himself  scarcely  has  surpassed  its  tremendous  portrayal  of  throb- 
bing, breathing,  moving  life." — New  York  Mail  and  Express. 

"  Mr.  Crane's  story  should  be  read  for  the  fidelity  with  which  it  portrays  a  life 
that  is  potent  on  this  island,  along  with  the  best  of  us.  It  is  a  powerful  portrayal,  and, 
if  somber  and  repellent,  none  the  less  true,  none  the  less  freighted  with  appeal  to  those 
who  are  able  to  assist  in  righting  wrongs." — New  York  Times. 


T 


HE  RED  BADGE  OF  COURAGE.     An  Fpisodc 

of  the  American  Civil  War.     I2mo.     Cloth,  $1.00. 

"  Never  before  have  we  had  the  seamy  side  of  glorious  war  so  well  depicted.  .  .  . 
The  action  of  the  story  throughout  is  splendid,  and  all  aglow  with  color,  movement, 
and  vim.  The  style  is  as  keen  and  bright  as  a  sword-blade,  and  a  Kipling  has  done 
nothing  better  in  this  line." — Chicago  Evening  1'ost. 

"There  is  nothing  in  American  fiction  to  compare  with  it.  ...  Mr.  Crane  has 
added  to  American  literature  something  that  has  never  been  done  before,  and  that  is, 
in  its  own  peculiar  way,  inimitable." — Boston  Beacon. 

"A  truer  and  completer  picture  of  war  than  either  Tolstoy  or  Zola." — London  Ntie 
Review. 


NEW   YORK:  D.   APPLETON   AND  COMPANY. 


D.  APPLETON   AND  COMPANY'S  PUBLICATIONS. 

HAMLIN   GARLAND'S   BOOKS. 
Uniform  edition.  Each,  izmo,  cloth,  $1.25. 

J/TfAYSIDE  COURTSHIPS. 

"  A  faithful  and  an  entertaining  portrayal  of  village  and  rural  life  in  the  West 
.  .  .  No  one  can  read  this  collection  of  short  stories  without  feeling  that  he  is  master 
of  the  subject."— Chicago  Journal. 

"  One  of  the  most  delightful  books  of  short  stories  which  have  come  to  our  notice  in 
a  long  time." — Boston  Times. 

"  The  historian  of  the  plains  has  done  nothing  better  than  this  group  of  Western 
stories.  Wayside  courtships  they  are,  but  full  of  tender  feeling  and  breathing  a  fine, 
strong  sentiment." — Louisville  Times. 


J 


'ASON  ED  WARDS.     An  Average  Man. 


"  The  average  man  in  the  industrial  ranks  is  presented  in  this  story  in  as  lifelike 
a  manner  as  Mr.  Bret  Harte  presented  the  men  in  the  California  mining  camps  thirty 
years  ago.  ...  A  story  which  will  be  read  with  absorbing  interest  by  hundreds  of 
workingmen." — Boston  Herald. 


A 


MEMBER   OF    THE    THIRD   HOUSE. 

Story  of  Political  Warfare. 


"  The  work  is,  in  brief,  a  keen  and  searching  study  of  lobbies  and  lobbyists.  At 
least,  it  is  the  lobbies  thai  furnish  its  motive.  For  the  rest,  the  story  is  narrated  with 
much  power,  and  the  characters  of  Brennan  the  smart  wire-puller,  the  millionaire  Davis, 
the  reformer  Tuttle,  and  Evelyn  Ward  are  skillfully  individualized.  .  .  .  Mr.  Garland's 
people  have  this  peculiar  characteristic,  that  they  have  not  had  a  literary  world  made 
for  them  to  live  in.  They  seem  to  move  and  act  in  the  cold  gray  light  of  reality,  and 
in  that  trying  light  they  are  evidently  human." — Chicago  Record. 


A 


SPOIL  OF  OFFICE.     A    Story   of  the   Modern 
West. 

"  It  awakens  in  the  mind  a  tremendous  admiration  for  an  artist  who  could  so  find 
his  way  through  the  mists  of  familiarity  to  an  artistic  haven.  ...  In  reading  '  A  Spoil 
of  Office  '  one  feels  a  continuation  of  interest  extending  from  the  fictional  into  the  actual, 
with  no  break  or  divergence.  And  it  seems  to  be  only  a  question  of  waiting  a  day  or 
two  ere  one  will  run  up  against  the  characters  in  real  life." 


A 


ALSO, 

LITTLE  NORSK ;  or,  Of  Pap's  Flaxen.     i6mo. 
Boards,  50  cents. 

"True  feeling,  the  modesty  of  Nature,  and  the  sure  touch  of  art  are  the  marks  of 
this  pure  and  graphic  story,  which  has  added  a  bright  leaf  to  the  author's  laurels."— 
Chicago  Tribune. 

"A  delightful  story,  full  of  humor  of  the  finest  kind,  genuine  pathos,  and  enthralling 
in  its  vivid  human  interest." — London  Academy. 


D.  APPLETON  AND  COMPANY,  NEW  YORK. 


